Speedster Eliminators
by C.S. Bernard
Summary: Tired of being defeated by Sonic the Hedgehog, Dr. Eggman hires on "The Rogues" from Keystone City to come out to Station Square and put an end to the Doctor's hedgehog problem, once and for all. Rated 'K-Plus' for Violence. SEGA/DC Comics
1. Professionals

**Day 01 – 16:34 – Undisclosed Location Underground – Station Square, California, USA**

"Why?"

"_Why?_"

"Oh, why is it that I can _never_ beat Sonic?"

DOCTOR Ivo Robotnik, alias "Dr. Eggman," was slumped over the computer console of his master control room. Once more, he had been thoroughly thwarted by Sonic the Hedgehog, resident hero of Station Square. Eggman's usual response to defeat in battle against his arch-nemesis was to retreat to a new hide-out and suffer through a long sulk. He was well underway in the brooding phase of his post-defeat ritual.

The Doctor grumbled aloud in his chair, with his forehead cradled into his left hand as its elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, while his right hand freely drummed the opposite arm rest. Whilst he grumbled, Eggman massaged his forehead.

Robotnik had earned his nickname, though no one is exactly sure how he came by it. Some might believe that he earned it when he was an up and coming robotics engineer that so astounded his colleagues some of them resentfully referred to him as such an "egg-head" and that he would "crack-up." Indeed, it is a pity that he either lost his moral-anchor or willingly cut it loose so that he might attain to goals greater than that of a "mere" engineer. Be careful what you wish for. Then, again, he might have taken the name, himself, to reflect his hard-boiled nature and that, like a hard-boiled egg, he could mentally stand up to the intense pressures of genius. But, the widely believed story is that his arch-foe had given him the name out of spite and that, in a childish game of one-upmanship, he adopted the name. Though different people swear by different stories, no one knows for sure how he came by his infamous moniker.

Regardless, Eggman did match his name physically. With a broad waistline and an upper body that seemed to taper off to the "point" that was his head, his torso fit the vague description of the ovular image. The fact that he shaved his head furthered the image of a man-sized egg. Since his mind did most of his work for him, Eggman's limbs had suffered, somewhat, from an atrophy that left them proportionally smaller than his larger body parts. The Doctor was something of a caricature of a human; another point that he accentuated with his strange idea of fashion: a red and black suit, with gold buttons, yellow jacket cuffs and white horizontal stripes. Further "eccentricities" were displayed in his clothing choices of white gloves, pince nez sunglasses, and an easily noticed handlebar mustache that had gone out of style perhaps fifty years ago.

In the midst of one of his emotional eccentricities, Eggman still fumed about his enemy, "Just- What _is it_ about Sonic that I haven't figured out, yet? Eh? I've tried and tried, for years now, to do away with him, beat him, bring him to his knees, whatever it takes to break his will to fight. What am I doing wrong?" Eggman snapped upright in his chair, and slapped his left hand down, palm open on the arm rest. With a resolute will and a determined look on his face he declared, "I need to get my mind off of him, for a minute. I need something, anything."

With that, Eggman leaned forward and brought his personal computer out of sleep mode and booted up the HDTV television-viewer program. Tapping the up and down arrow keys, he casually flicked through the various feeds. Soap opera, reality television program, game show, televangelist, talk show, talk show, home shopping network, and so on and so on; one would be disappointed to truly reflect upon the thousands of unwatchable things that go onto television. Finally, Eggman came across what he felt might actually be beneficial: the news.

"I'm Scarlet Garcia for Station Square News: at the top of the hour, earlier today, Sonic the Hedge-"

Eggman cut the newswoman off, "Not even."

"Sonic-"

"Bah!"

"Dr. Eggman was defeated-"

"At least that one mentioned me, first."

At that point, Eggman came to a political commentator, known in wider circles as a "pundit," "If you ask me, this whole 'Dr. Eggman thing' is overrated. I mean, who thinks he's a threat? He gets beat by a hedgehog, for crying out loud!"

Eggman growled as he changed the channel, again. This time, however, he quickly typed in some new commands that would change the frequency his television receiver picked up; anything to get away from a West Coast feed. Unfortunately, things did not go so well there, either. Again, the Doctor was forced to sift through various, inferior programs on the Midwestern stations. Talk show, talk show, home shopping network, cartoons – several stations' worth of those – children's programming, made for television movie, and finally some more news shows.

"KFMB Channel 4 News, featuring Linda Park, Mark Summers, sports reviews by John Longman, and weather with Nancy Roberts," thus the announcer introduced his co-workers at the station.

"Finally," Eggman resignedly quipped, "something that _doesn't_ have to do with Sonic."

"At the top of the hour," Linda Park began, "KFMB will bring you the latest election results for the city council, today's winning lottery numbers, reports of the governor's trip to Washinton, and how you can save more at the grocery store, as well as your sports highlights and weather for the weekend."

Eggman sighed a little, in relief, at the soothing tone of the anchorwoman, as well as the hedgehog-free news items she brought to the public – mundane, though they were. He had begun to edge away from his earlier despondency as the camera cut over to Mark Summers, the co-anchor.

"But first," the thirty-something newsman interjected, a tone of mild excitement in his voice. Eggman recognized that kind of excitement in a reporter's voice. Eggman knew it as the tone that reporters handled when something "interesting," usually dangerous, has happened. "We have coverage of the daring assault on a gold shipment, at the Keystone City rail-depot, earlier this morning." Eggman put all of his attention to this, since he was an aficionado of all things "extra-legal."

"This morning, a familiar gang of criminals attacked a gold shipment that made a last minute detour through Keystone City; the detour, itself, being part of the larger plan to steal the gold. The gold in question totaled to a full fifteen million dollars." The newsman's well-kept face was replaced with somewhat grainy footage of a train yard.

"As you can see here," the anchor's voice spoke while the footage rolled, "by this surveillance video obtained from the Keystone City Police Department, the notorious Rogues, self-styled super-villains, who have been terrorizing the city for years were the perpetrators responsible for the attack." What followed on screen caused Eggman to lean forward in his seat, very much focused on what he saw. For several minutes, what proceeded was a fantastical display of events that defied everyday logic.

A thick white beam flashed across the camera, striking the train as it approached the depot, and froze it in place; no surprise since the beam, in fact, was an intense blast of ice and cold that quickly "welded" the engine to the rails. The train stopped and three men stepped forward, each of them clad in outrageous clothing – costume, actually.

The first one wore a blue parka, with matching pants – something out of place in the middle of July. To accentuate the incredulity of the out of place winter-wear, the hood and shoulders of the parka were covered in a white material, obviously some form of cloth material, rather than any ice or snow. Not as strange, perhaps part of a disguise, the cold-themed assailant wore a visor that obscured his eyes. Beyond that, his accessories were fairly normative: a pair of white gloves and boots and a yellow belt with twin-holsters. The holsters, of course, were empty, with both of the weapons they housed wielded in the parka-man's hands. The twin guns were fairly bulky for pistols, but pistols they were. Eggman was impressed with the weapons. Though he, himself, had worked with cryonic weaponry, in years past, Eggman had never been able to make his weapons so compact, nor had he ever escaped the need to rely on liquid nitrogen, or other such refrigeration technology. Yet, there they were, a pair of pistols, capable of freezing a locomotive to its rails, as well as incapacitating any and all security personnel that came toward the gunman. Eggman hummed a thought or two about what he watched. That is when he noticed another of the raiders.

The second "Rogue," as Eggman remembered the name mentioned beforehand, wore an orange jumpsuit – perhaps it was a full-body leotard, or something of that nature. Around his head, he wore an odd style mask, green in color, with large holes cut out for his eyes and mouth. His large belt and boots matched the hood, along with a pair of arm bands and green holsters on his thighs. When confronted by other security personnel that flocked out into the train yard the man in orange produced small green tiles from his belt. He then tossed them on the ground, in front of the guards. Eggman was perplexed to notice that the "tiles" were in fact small hand-mirrors. Eggman went from confusion to shock when the security personnel began to_ fall_ into the mirrors. In spite of all appearances of their size, the mirrors, when stepped on, swallowed up the security personnel, with no problem. When the danger of the mirrors was made evident, the remainder of the guards sidestepped the reflective traps and aimed their weapons at the orange-man. Unfazed, the mirror-thrower pressed a switch hidden in his left armband, whereupon a large group of holograms flashed up out of the mirrors, the spitting image of their target. Eggman chuckled at such versatility for simple mirrors just as much as he was set in a good mood by the look on the security personnel's faces.

The third Rogue, when he made himself fully visible, was hard to miss. There was no way to describe this man who was dressed in such garb as to make the other two men seem common. Firstly, he wore a cape, something that put off Eggman's sensibilities of style and dignity. From there things got stranger as his whole costume was nothing but a striped shirt, with likewise pants and curly tip shoes. It was strange to see this man and his, frankly, circus-style clothing. But, after he took a moment to reassess his own predilections for carnivals, circuses, and other festival-themed devices and robots, Eggman's surprise passed, for the moment. What guards were left soon became the victims of this blond man whose identity was thinly disguised by a small mask that obscured his eyes. Smiling like a madman, this fugitive from a circus reached behind his back and under his black cape and pulled out a weapon of his own. By then, Eggman was not surprised to see that it was a set of juggling balls, puzzled, but not surprised. Taking a moment or two to juggle the items about, the performer tossed them in an erratic fashion at the guards. When they struck ground, the spheres exploded into yellow clouds. The cloud of unidentifiable dust soon proved itself to be a bizarre mixture of eye and skin irritant that drove the guards to itch and scratch and rub at their skin and eyes. Eggman laughed once, heartily, at the "trick," "Ha! Itching powder!"

The most impressive thing about all this was the speed with which everything had taken place. According to the built-in clock of the security cameras, the elapsed time was little more than ten minutes. Though it was short, Eggman thoroughly enjoyed the show, his earlier frustrations with Sonic quite easily forgotten. It was at this moment in the film that the news anchor cut back in to comment on the situation.

"As you can see here, the unfortunate security guards were quickly overpowered by the Rogues known as 'Captain Cold,' 'Mirror Master,' and the 'Trickster.' Their one good bit of luck was that none of them were seriously hurt, as the Rogues proceeded to rob the train of its sizeable gold shipment. You'll even notice that the three of them were able to breech the armored train cars with Captain Cold's 'cold gun' and a weapon later identified as a 'seltzer bottle loaded with a powerful acidic compound.'" All of this happened on film, in conjunction with the audio observations. "Now, you'll notice, once the cars were opened they began using Mirror Master's special mirrors, the same ones you saw him capture several of the guards with earlier, as some sort of storage containers."

Eggman was in a very good mood as all of this went on before him. But, he also took a little time to memorize the names the newsman tossed out. "Captain Cold, Mirror Master and Trickster," he repeated them a couple of times, "Captain Cold, Mirror Master and Trickster."

"Thankfully," the newsman's chipper voice interrupted. Eggman did not like that; since the commentator had been unsympathetic to such masterful, albeit "petty," outlaws, the Doctor knew that anything positive that would be said would not be directed at the trio. It only took a second for the Doctor's prediction to be rendered reality. "Thankfully, Keystone's own Flash was able to arrive in time to stop the thieves before they could get away, or take too much of the gold."

Eggman grumbled at this statement. He was not pleased with the notion of something that interrupted such a daring and capable performance as that of the Rogues. Sadly, so he felt, it was true, there was an interruption; but, not just any interruption. A streak of red flew through the train yard. "What!" the Doctor snapped. Could it be? Did his eyes deceive him?

To Eggman's horror, he relived a moment he felt all too familiar: defeat. How many times had he done it? How many times had Sonic rocketed into his plans, threw all of his careful preparation into chaos, only to dash right back out, free as a bird and having "saved the day?" Eggman did not have to see, or pay attention to what went on before him. Oh, the Rogues put a valiant fight, but the scarlet lightning bolt that raced around the train yard easily overcame cold guns, mirrors and holograms, and a menagerie of circus-style traps. It was as if, somehow, Sonic was still ruining his day. But, it was not Sonic. It was this "Flash" character. That was all Eggman wanted to see; all he could stomach to see. His sulking rage bubbled back up into his soul, again. Suddenly, Eggman did not want to learn tips for saving on groceries or to hear about last night's baseball game – though he was a fan of the sport. No, he simply switched the television receiver program off.

Eggman slumped back in his seat, as he had earlier, with feelings as low as he had earlier. "Why?" the Doctor asked the blank computer screen, "Why is it that such troublesome pests must exist in this world? After all, though they're men of smaller ambitions, the Rogues have the same problem that I do."

It was at that moment Eggman was struck by a sharp realization, like a gust of brisk air clearing away a thick cloud. Eggman quickly brought up his personal Internet browsing tool, Egg-Web, and launched himself into a research project that lasted for the rest of the day and well into the night, while he chuckled about his sudden burst of inspiration.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

**_Sonic the Hedgehog_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by the SEGA Corporation.**

**_The Flash_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by DC Comics.**


	2. Arrangements

**Day 09 – 21:27 – Iron Heights Prison, Keystone City, Kansas, USA**

THE American prison system is often lambasted, both at home and abroad, as a barbaric and cruel system, with its long sentencing periods and the over-crowded facilities that prisoners are subjected to. In some cases, this is an absurd statement, given certain prisons and their loose parole boards, varying judges and their ideas of punishment, and numerous other factors that can lead to shortened sentences and comfortable prison facilities. And yet, there were places that proved all disparaging comments and assessments true. There were yet others that surpassed such flattering words as "cruel" or "barbarous." There was Iron Heights Prison.

Iron Heights, in spite of – or, maybe because of – the more exclusive cadre of villains it housed within was always conveniently swept under the rug of public ignorance. This was very likely the work of the prison warden, Gregory Wolfe. Wolfe, as a former prosecutor for the city of St. Louis, Missouri, was probably deemed the proper man for the job. As some of the prisoners might tell anyone that would listen, Wolfe possessed a unique "talent" to cause muscle tension in others. Not very impressive, by sound ,but in practice the metahuman ability had been as effective as a stun gun, with much greater range which could send the human body into spasms, or lock it into a rigid, often painful, posture. Aside from this hurtful skill, Wolfe, whether corrupted by his prison job or simply cruel by nature, exceeded his authority long ago and transformed Iron Heights into a terrifying place, even for villains.

It was deep within the bowels of the prison, though, that the worst facilities were maintained – or rather left to rot, along with the inmates inside. "The Pipeline," as it was dubbed, was a dank system of cells and corridors that harkened back to medieval dungeons. Prisoners were kept there in their costumes, rather than standard prison orange jumpsuits, with the intent to make the "super-villain" prisoners readily identifiable to all the guards. An additional rule, from Wolfe himself, was that if any "mask" should be seen outside its cell, the guards were to open fire, immediately. It was there, in the Pipeline, that the notorious Rogues found themselves imprisoned, several times.

The Rogues, one should take the time to mention, actually boasted a much larger roster than three men. There were several other men and women who went by names like Weather Wizard, Golden Glider, Captain Boomerang, The Top, and Heat Wave, with others unnamed, but just as dangerous. But, at the time of the incident being related the Pipeline only held three of its chief members: three members who had been apprehended little over a week prior to the events being told.

"Yeah, that was some brilliant planning."

"I'm not in the mood, Scudder."

"Oh. Hear that, Trickster? He's not in the mood."

The argument between the other two men was not something that the third one would want to get into.

"'Not in the mood,' he says. Well, you must be happy with being in Iron Heights, then, eh?"

"Stuff it, Scudder."

"Ah, you tell me to 'stuff it.' If I remember, correctly, I said that we should have just used one of my mirrors to suck up the whole train all at once. But, no! You had to let Trickster, over there, have his way and blow up the railway bridge with some blasted exploding bowling pins!"

"Hey! MM!" The third prisoner finally voiced his indignation, "They were exploding _juggling_ pins."

"Oh, well, pardon my mistake!"

"That's enough!"

Captain Cold, self-appointed leader of the Rogues, was in a foul mood. His cell-block-mates, and fellow Rogues, Mirror Master and Trickster did not help the matter. Cold was all too familiar with the power of hindsight, which pointed out that Mirror Master may have had valid points. But, "could have" and "should have" are phrases that do no good once a person meets failure. Which doubled Cold's distemper toward Mirror Master who, likewise, fumed over a return to Iron Heights. The three of them were in cells where they could see each other, easily, as Cold occupied the cell closest to the door out of the Pipeline, with Mirror Master across from him, one cell down and Trickster next door to Mirror Master. The closeness of the exit out of their cell-block simply ridiculed the trio, which increased their edginess toward each other.

After a moment's quiet, Cold spoke up, again. This time, his voice was not so vitriolic, "We don't need to be thinking in terms of where we messed up. We need to think of a way out of here. We've done it before."

"Yeah," Mirror Master affirmed, still annoyed, his eyes cast to the ground between his feet, as he sat on the edge of his bunk.

"Ditto," Trickster said absently, while his head dangled over the top end of his bunk. He could see Cold in his cell, as he sat against the wall his bunk ran adjacent to, his arms crossed over his chest.

And so the time passed, as no one moved for a while, as seconds turned to minutes, which stretched into a half-hour.

Suddenly, Trickster spoke up, "I got nothing."

"What a surprise," Mirror Master quipped.

"Well, do you?" Cold castigated.

"No," Mirror Master almost snapped, but instead slumped down in his bunk-seat, "But, I'm working on it."

Before anyone's temper could flare any higher, a dull but clearly audible thud rocked the building and rumbled directly overhead of the inmates. Everyone's attention then turned to the ceiling. Not satisfied with that, the prisoners jumped to their feet. At least, Mirror Master and Captain Cold jumped to their feet. Trickster's awkward position from which he jumped to his feet caused him to slightly throw off his balance, which led him to a fall on his side onto the cell floor. His fumble was quickly recovered as he jumped to his feet in an instant. As soon as Trickster was on his feet, the lights went off in the cell-block, quickly replaced by eerie red alarm lights, followed by alarm sirens that blared in the hallways throughout the entire prison.

"What in the world?" Mirror Master was the first to speak.

As if in response, the ceiling burst open in a flare of fire and smoke. The three occupants of the cell-block averted their eyes and covered their mouths and noses to avoid smoke inhalation or any other air contaminants. A loud clang drew their attention back to the center of the block, though. What they saw, as it stood before them, was a mild shock to their already alerted senses.

They knew it was a robot, or at least recognized it as what they thought to be a robot. However, it was not exactly the kind of robot that they were "familiar" with. Most robots were tall and imposing. This one was squat and burly, as if it were more of a toy. The fact that it was red, with a big, white smile built into its face did not help, either. But, as far as the Rogues could tell, it could not have been a toy. It was and was not many things, but it most certainly stood before them. It was then followed by another and another of its identical "brothers." The ceiling appeared to hemorrhage these odd, almost whimsical, robots. There they were: squat automatons that carried a variety of weapons, including guns of numerous sizes and capabilities, shields, lances, and any number of weapons that matched their red, perpetually smiling nature. Yet, the strangest item was saved for last.

In it hovered, on a wave of anti-gravity power, a spherical pod that lowered itself into the cell-block. It was oddly marked, with yellow-black caution labels around its equator, with only a few vents and minor details such as a head light and visor that interrupted the otherwise smooth surface of the pod. Suddenly, from out of the pod came an all too human voice.

"Greetings, gentleman," called a portly man, nestled down into the pod, like an egg in a nest, "I bring you some good news."

The surrealist nature of the events that led to that moment in time caused an incredulous, if still sarcastic, Mirror Master to quip, "Well, well. Look there: If it isn't Old Saint Nick, coming for a visit!" Mirror Master was referring to the bright crimson jacket their visitor wore, as well as the large wooly mustache on his face, framed with a toothy grin.

The daring invader realized that, given his bulbous red nose and scarlet coat, he certainly fit the part ascribed to him. But, he was not in the mood for nonsense. Still, with a smile, he quipped, "Now, now, Mirror Master. I assure you, I'm far better than some well-intentioned elf. I'm here, in the flesh, and I bring you a nice little gift: your freedom!"

"Is that so?" Mirror Master chuckled, one hand propped up on his cell-door and the other scratched his chin, "Is that so? What're you waiting for, then?"

"Ah. Well, I can't exactly just do that, without mentioning that I have a proposition for you," the man in red responded.

At this, it was Cold's decision to speak up, "What _kind_ of proposition, if you don't mind my asking?"

The mystery man's eyes lit up, or at least they would have, if not for the imperceptibly thick pince-nez glasses on his prominent nose, "Ah, Captain Cold, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me." The parka-wearing Rogue replied, "Who's asking?"

"Well," the mystery man offered, "I'll fill you in on all the details and introduce myself, later. Though my robots have been able to gain entrance to your little guest house, I don't think they can tie up the prison authorities forever. I'll simply put it that, I just may be a friend of yours, a friend in need, who would like to do you a favor, in exchange for a little… _quid pro quo_. Act fast: this is a limited time offer."

"Come on, Cold," Mirror Master spoke in an authoritative tone, "go ahead. Don't keep our 'friend' waiting."

"I don't know," Cold hesitated a moment. Then turned to his other partner, "What do you think, Trickster?"

"Me?" The clownish inmate responded, "Frankly, I wanted to break out as soon as we got here. If you ask me, this guy's got a prefabricated escape plan ready for sale, so we should take him up on the offer."

"Okay," Cold said with a full grasp of the democratic vote. He turned to the would-be liberator, "We'll take your offer. I just hope you're not making us jump off an ice-burg and in over our heads."

"Ha! Excellent," the mystery man said, with a clap of his hands. "Egg Pawns, tear these cells open!"

Within an instant, several of the robots jumped at the doors to the Rogues' cells and tore through them as so much paper. As they walked out, three hover-bikes lowered into the cell. Their benefactor then directed the Rogues to, "Hop on and buckle up! You're about to fly some of the more friendly skies you're going to see." Inclined to not wait any longer, the Rogues hopped onto the hover bikes and, as they followed the lead of their rescuer, steered the bikes up through the floors of the prison, until they reached the first floor, then flew out the gaping holes made in the walls, and into daylight.

* * *

**Day 09 – 22:06 – The Outskirts of Keystone City**

"So, let me get this straight, Doctor."

THE Rogues and their liberator, Dr. Eggman, had found an area suitable to a clandestine exchange of "pleasantries." Eggman had introduced himself and his plan to the Rogues, the latter of which, Captain Cold actually, had decided to review.

"You broke us out of jail, because you want us to take care of a… **hedgehog**?"

The Doctor knew how absurd the suggestion sounded. But, that was beside the point, something that he felt it incumbent upon him to explain.

"Well, silly as it may sound, he's no _ordinary_ hedgehog." Eggman could feel Cold's icy stare through the blue and black visor on the criminal's face. Eggman chuckled, "You see, Sonic, that's his name, is something of a pest to me. In the same way that your do-gooder Flash is to you."

The Rogues' attention was riveted on Eggman at that point. Mirror Master spoke up, "Oh, yeah, yeah. I've heard of the hedgehog you're talking about. I see. So you're _that_ Dr. Eggman: the one always sending your robots to attack Station Square?"

Eggman smiled, "Ah. I knew that an in-famous person like me wouldn't be a complete mystery to you."

Mirror Master laughed a little, "Ha! You? A little pathetic, if you were to ask me: a supposedly 'ingenious' robotics expert beaten by a _rodent_, time and time again."

Trickster giggled, while Cold smirked a little; Eggman saw no humor in the situation. Eggman cleared his throat and decided to try a different approach.

"Samuel Scudder," Eggman addressed Mirror Master, who stopped his chuckles, "small time criminal who accidentally stumbled upon his mirror technology while serving time for a few hold-ups and robberies; developed the technology further after escaping from prison, later to battle the Flash as the Mirror Master."

"James Jesse," Eggman turned to the Trickster, "former circus aerialist and acrobat who got tired of working for peanuts and took his own brand of entertainment to the streets as the Trickster, a performing criminal. Over the years you've developed a large array of gadgets and 'tricks' to battle the Flash."

"Leonard Snart," Eggman began to address Captain Cold, but, as Eggman had anticipated, he had already said enough.

"Okay," Cold interrupted. "You've done your homework. What's your point?"

"Just trying to illustrate that before anyone decides to insult the other over our failures and mutually checkered pasts, we need to come to an understanding."

"And what would that 'understanding' be?"

"Simple. We have the same problem: speedsters. Yours is a human in a red suit called the Flash; mine's a blue hedgehog named Sonic."

"And you're proposing an alliance?"

"In a sense, yes; you see," Eggman went into the full details of his plan, "I want you to help me defeat Sonic. If you do, and succeed, I'll let you pillage and rob Station Square all you want: money has no value to me. In exchange, I'll help you to beat the Flash, thus leaving Keystone City ripe for the picking. Then, we can all go our separate ways to do as we please."

Cold responded, "Give us a moment."

The three Rogues gathered together a few feet away from Eggman, safely out of ear-shot.

"Well, what do you two think?" Cold asked his associates.

"I think he's nuts," Mirror Master stated immediately. "Like I said, I've heard of him. He's a real 'mad scientist' type, so it'd be hard to know what to expect out of him. But, that does mean that he's more interested in the whole world domination bit, rather than cash: something I think we're all agreed upon wanting for ourselves."

"Yeah, but fighting a hedgehog?" Trickster asked, while he confusedly scratched the back of his head, "Doesn't that seem a bit… stupid?"

"Ironic that _you'd_ be saying that," Mirror Master countered.

Trickster threw his hands up in defense, "Hey, I'm just saying is all. Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you."

Captain Cold stood quietly, his chin cupped in his hand. He merely listened while the other two talked.

"I think we might want to pass on his offer," Mirror Master declared.

"Really," Trickster caught Mirror Master's inconsistency, "you think we should pass: the guy who was first to pounce on escaping from Iron Heights?"

"Is that so? If I remember correctly, you were all for escaping, too. Cold was the only one who didn't jump on the bandwagon right away."

"Hey, that's right!" Trickster turned to Cold, "What about you, Frosty Pants? You've not said anything about anything."

"First, don't call me that," Cold replied in an annoyed tone. He then switched to a more serious one, "Second, I don't like being a poor sport: the Rogues have a reputation to maintain. My only concern is that, for all the firepower the Doctor was willing to toss around back at Iron Heights, he has so much trouble out of a… hedgehog."

Mirror Master then asked, "So, are we in or out?"

Captain Cold turned, without a response, and walked back to Eggman, who still rested comfortably in his Egg Mobile. "Fine then," Mirror Master grumbled to himself.

Eggman, who had quietly waited during the debate, leaned forward in his hovercraft when Cold approached and eagerly asked the Rogue leader, "So, have you come to a decision, yet?"

"Depends," Cold stated with a cool detachment, his arms crossed, "if we say no?"

Eggman smirked and stroked his mustache with his right hand, "Well, if you're not willing to help me out, I'll just cut my losses, now, and leave; with my hover-bikes. You three can fend for yourselves, I assume."

Captain Cold was slow with a response to that. Though the Rogues _could_ fend for themselves, their recent attempted train robbery, combined with an escape from Iron Heights would put a lot of police on their trail. On top of which, Flash would also be on the lookout for them. Cold had no qualms with mercenary work. All of the Rogues, at some point in their solo and team careers, had worked as guns for hire. Moreover, they had worked with various secret societies and organizations to dispose of common enemies. How many had it been over the years? Cold could not remember all of them. Still, Cold always liked to think his options through. Given the ones before him, and the consequences that might result from them, he figured that Eggman was their best bet. After all, a nice trip out of town would be a great way to throw law enforcement off their trail, for a while.

"Very well, Doctor," Cold finally answered. "We'll help you with your little problem."

"Excellent," Eggman declared, with a clap of his hands and a smile. "We'll leave, immediately."

"Hold on a minute, Eggman," Cold interrupted, "I don't think you hired us just for our looks. The police seized all of our weapons. You'll need to give us some time to re-arm and re-equip ourselves. Loan us these air-bikes of yours and we'll go to our respective secret caches, get our gear, and meet you here."

"Of course," Eggman warmly replied. "But," his countenance went from warm to chill in an instant, "I'll only wait half an hour, after which I'll use a remote kill-switch to disable their motors."

Cold smirked, as he, Trickster and Mirror Master straddled the vehicles, "No need to worry. The Rogues are many things, but they never welch on a deal."

The hover-bikes then roared off into the night sky.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**Sonic the Hedgehog**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to the Sega Corporation.**

_**The Flash**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to DC Comics.**


	3. Cold

**Day 12 – 09:30 – Downtown Station Square**

THE daily activities of a city on the move can often be seen as chaotic and hectic, thanks in large part to the myriad events going on within any given urban sprawl. In truth, everything that goes on is either interconnected or part of deliberate actions of individuals and groups within the city proper. The irony, then, is that, since the average human mind cannot process the entire cacophony of sound and activity of life around it, it is often prone to stress, if overly interested in all the activity around it, or simply tune it out as "so much noise" and a distraction – the "hustle and bustle" of urban living conditions. Still, in spite of the mere individual, society binds itself together under that awesome word "civilization" and moves along in its mechanistic fashion. More quixotic is the peculiar reminder that, for all the wear and tear that civilization bears down on the necks of its individual components it is still only as good as the sum of its parts. Too much credit is either given to civilization, or too little to the individual. Yet the converse must be juxtaposed to that statement, as well. Regardless, we return our attention back to the story, at hand, as Station Square's citizens went about their daily business, in spite of the concerns of any random assaults from Dr. Eggman. That was largely due to a familiar blue streak as it cruised through the city's thoroughfares.

Sonic the Hedgehog, a friendly little soul, was Station Square's self-selected champion, largely an incidental enterprise in its beginning. Since Eggman, Sonic's long-standing antagonist, had chosen the city for much of his megalomaniacal activities, Sonic had made it his goal to defend this particular urban sprawl. Had it been any other city, he would have selected it, instead. But, that was Sonic's way: doing what he could, where he could, with what he could. With a boundless sense of self-reliance and unending determination, he could accomplish quite a bit. However, since Eggman had not been heard from for over a week, Sonic's pent up energies needed exertion. Hence, he was out on a daily run handling "small" problems like the occasional three-alarm fire or a construction worker who might misstep on a thirty-storey iron-girder walkway; "little things" like that. Strange that anyone would consider crises like the aforesaid small matters, but that paled in comparison to the fact that the famous goodly creature that made danger a daily companion was, himself, a three-foot tall, bi-pedal hedgehog, who could walk and talk like a human. The fact that his fur was blue, he was still only in his teens and he only wore red and white striped-sneakers and white gloves were commonplace, by comparison.

Sonic, had earlier that day rescued a toddler from being hit by a car, foiled a mugging, and helped return an old man's wallet, was by that time bored. With his morning only partly gone, tedium was a dreadful concern for the adrenaline-riddled youth. Thus he zipped through the city streets at, what was for him, low speeds, while he looked for something "interesting." It was at that point in the day that Sonic was, in a way, pleased to hear a jewelry store alarm pitch a fitful call for help into the air, just down the street. Sonic altered course and set out for the distressed mechanism.

Sonic was surprised when he came to the jewelry store to find the glass had been shattered out of the windowpane. He stopped a moment to inspect it, as the store's alarm inexplicably stopped. When he picked up a piece of glass, he quickly threw it away, as its temperature was uncomfortably low. When the thing splintered into smaller fragments, he was surprised to find that it was not glass. "Ice?" he asked aloud, if just to confirm, to his own ears, that he had indeed picked up a large chunk of frost. He banished his slight astonishment and hopped through the destroyed window.

Sonic eyed the situation for a few moments. What first caught his attention were the thick sheets of ice, everywhere. At least he realized that he was not mistaken earlier. The abundance of the frozen mass caused the air that drifted out the window to chill Sonic's naked arms and abdomen - the least furry parts of his body, next to his eyes and muzzle of course. Even his ears flinched at the frigid atmosphere. Sonic then noticed the people huddled in a far corner of the room, as they cowered in fear or pressed together for warmth, either was very likely. Their eyes were fixed on the lone figure in the center of the room. Sonic followed their gaze and assumed a thoughtful expression when he saw the parka-clad man that stood with his hands that literally dripped jewelry raised up to his eyes. In other circumstances, one would think he was a customer, out for a day of leisurely window-shopping. But, since the display cases were encrusted with ice and the glass splintered to oblivion, Sonic came to the conclusion that this man was responsible and therefore was a criminal.

"Not bad," the man in blue and white winter-wear declared of the gemstones. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you people in Station Square get higher quality trinkets than we do in Keystone City. You know what?" His question to the people nearby that shivered and shook was rhetorical, "I think I'll just take some 'samples' back home and find out." With a smirk, he began to dump the "trinkets" into – of all clichéd items – a burlap sack that he had with him lying on the floor. It was already close to full with ill-gotten gains.

"Ahem!"

Sonic's exaggerated, as well as very intentional, "cough" quickly caught the thief's attention. When the man, who wore the strangest visor he had seen in a while, turned to face Sonic, the young hero was not prepared for the perpetrator's smile.

"Well, well, well," the strange criminal said, his hands still full, "it would seem that you finally got here: Sonic the Hedgehog."

Sonic never did like it when people he did not know addressed him by name. At least they had the decency to call him by his full name – much more professional. Still, that was also annoying, since Sonic preferred just his personal name, under the condition that it be uttered in a friendlier tone.

"Well, Stranger," Sonic retorted, with a habitual smirk, "it seems you know my name. But, you apparently don't know the law. Don't you know it's not nice to take other people's things?"

"Oh, I do," was the response. The criminal dropped the baubles in his hand onto the floor and completely forgot about them, his attention riveted on Sonic. With an enhanced smile, he continued, "It's just that I prefer to ignore that."

Sonic actually chuckled at such a level-headed thug, probably because he was so "cool," Sonic thought. Sonic then added to his thoughts, but not cool enough. "Well, don't get me wrong, rules can be a bit of a hassle. But, a lot of them help to protect decent people from guys like you."

The mystery man only matched Sonic for his smirk. Sonic knew that look, inside and out and what it meant.

"Heh," Sonic chuckled, "Got a name? That way I can at least know who I'm about to play with?"

"Me?" The stranger lost his smirk, and gained a more somber tone and look, "I don't play games. That's Trickster's area of expertise. Some call me 'The Man Who Mastered Absolute Zero.' But, I prefer to be called…" He had already gone for his weapons, the two pistols in his holsters. "Captain Cold!"

With his shout, Cold had signaled his plan to take Sonic out, right there. Too bad, Sonic thought, he was not in a mood to cooperate. The white beams collided with the top of the windowpane, where Sonic had stood, but only added an even thicker coat of ice to the one already there: Sonic was on the move. In an instant, Sonic was in another part of the room, safely away from anyone that he did not want to get hit with Cold's weapons, indirectly.

Cold hummed with a sneer, "It seems you're as fast as I've heard about."

Sonic smirked, as he put himself into a fighting stance with intentions to do something serious this time, "You have no idea."

Cold gave a fittingly chilled smile back to him, "Oh, I think I do."

Cold turned his guns at Sonic, once more, and gave the triggers rapid, short pulls that caused the guns to fire off spikes of ice, huge projectiles that threatened to impale Sonic. Deftly, Sonic leaped into the air and somersaulted over the flying icicles. With momentum and gravity in his favor, Sonic aimed a foot at Cold, with every intention to kick him, and make it count. In response, Cold aimed one pistol at the ceiling and the other at the floor. The cold guns formed a sudden stalagmite and stalactite of solid ice, which Cold fused into one mighty ice pillar, a shield against Sonic.

Sonic saw Cold's plan and acted to pre-empt it by way of a homing attack straight into and through the ice pillar. Though Sonic certainly did not like the idea of a collision with a block of ice in his balled up attack position, he was especially disinterested in an attack with just one leg. Sonic's homing attack struck the pillar dead center, just above Cold's head, which caused the frigid fighter to duck to one side, to give the hedgehog full clearance to bowl through the ice and to the floor behind him. However, this was just what Cold wanted. His pistols ready, he took aim at Sonic, as the hedgehog landed on the floor and attempted to stand back up. Cold aimed, again, at Sonic's feet.

The way Sonic landed, he came out of his spin so as to keep Cold in front of him – it was never a good idea to turn your back to an opponent. Unfortunately, Sonic only managed to see what came next, without time to react. Cold had already fired his gun, with a vague idea of where Sonic's feet were going to be, but it was an excellent guess, since Sonic's feet were stuck fast to the floor, along with his right hand, which he had placed on the floor, to stabilize his landing. Sonic glanced down, then at Cold. His opponent smiled and leveled his cold gun at Sonic.

"Not bad," Sonic said, with a thoughtful glance to his immobilized hand and feet.

Cold retorted, matter-of-factly, "Thanks. It's just a pity that I can't say the same for you."

"Don't count me out, just yet, Frosty."

Sonic's saving grace came from the fact that he had landed beside Cold's bag of plunder. Within the moment that Cold went to pull the trigger, Sonic had already grabbed the burlap sack and tossed it into the air. The beam of ice was intercepted by the bag, which was blasted across the room, completely frosted over with a thick crust. Cold grunted at his adversary's quick wits that matched his fleet feet. He retargeted Sonic. Sonic, though, had already made the effort to free his one hand, with a might punch into the ice that was only thinly coated with ice. With both hands free, and Cold's arm leveled for another shot, Sonic quickly smashed his feet free and rolled to one side. Once more, Cold was too late to hit Sonic with a direct hit and only shot the spot on which he had been momentarily glued.

Cold growled at the missed chance, "You certainly don't make this easy, do you?" But, he assuredly did not want Sonic to jump back to his feet. So, as the hedgehog rolled along the floor, the human gunman kept fired off salvo-blasts of icy projectiles at him.

Sonic opted not to make snappy comebacks, while he tumbled along the floor. He sometimes did that to Eggman: that got his goat more than the taunts, since Eggman's ego always wanted to be recognized, even if in a negative fashion. He hoped it would bother Cold, too. If it did not, then he was positive that being an uncooperative target was more frustrating, which it was. Cold's reflexes were quick, but Sonic's were quicker. Finally, Sonic dove behind a jewelry display case. Though the glass was already gone – and would have made poor shielding against Cold's onslaught – the sturdy metal base was still intact and was just big enough for Sonic to hide his three foot, three inch high frame. Sonic could hear the ice spears cracking against the metal, as they barely made dents. He was safe, for a moment, to think about how best to deal with Cold.

Cold, on the other hand, already knew that as long as Sonic was left with little space to think inside of a small jewelry store that offered little room to maneuver, he could keep the hedgehog disoriented and get another chance to flash-freeze him. Cold trained both barrels of his cold guns on the ceiling and let loose with a burst of frost that formed an ice block on the ceiling tiles. Then, he fired off a barrage of icicles that knocked the block free from the ceiling and caused it to fall down toward Sonic's entrenched position. Sonic quickly rolled out of the block's downward path just in time. It was then he was struck with an idea. Sonic quickly reached out and grabbed an armful of the ice chunks that nearly crushed him.

Cautiously, Cold kept one of his cold guns trained on the spot he last saw Sonic duck behind, while he held the other one loosely to his side, ready to fire in any other direction that he might see Sonic run. He did not hear anything. With a self-satisfied grunt, he edged toward the display case. "What's the matter, Sonic?" he taunted. "Got a headache? I've got just the cure for that," he chuckled, "an ice pack – one that'll last you a very long time."

Suddenly, the pitter-patter sound of rapid hedgehog feet roared off to Cold's right, along the length of the display case. Cold snapped his pistols in the direction of the sound, "Aha!" he declared, "You just think you're going to get away!"

"Who said anything about getting away?" Sonic's voiced called out from behind Cold.

"What–" was all that Cold could say, when he saw Sonic airborne and about to collide with him.

Cold attempted to spin his guns around in time, but only managed to fire a stray ice-shot up through the ceiling as he watched Sonic swat one gun away with an elbow. The other cold gun was brought into the fight and Cold tightened his grip on it, after he saw one of his trademark weapons skitter across the room. He tried to blast Sonic, but did not count on Sonic to grab the edge of the display case framework, use his momentum to pivot on his wrist and plant his foot square into the Captain's hand with a kick. With an iron-grip on the gun, Cold flew sideways, and fumbled onto his back. Sonic pounced on Cold and straddled his abdomen, while he restrained his arms and thus pinned Cold to the floor.

Sonic chuckled, "You fell for the diversion with those chunks of ice, huh?"

Cold was highly disappointed in himself, to find that a creature half his height could pin him so effectively. Though, in all honesty, he suspected that the hedgehog possessed something of an above average strength that belied his small, lithe frame. "Not bad," Cold grimaced. "But, it's not good enough, either!"

With a squeeze of the cold gun's trigger, Cold doused the jewelry store patrons in a sheet of ice. They had no chance to escape the melee while it lasted and were certainly not fast enough to dodge the intense blast of cold and ice that flew at them – the thing that Cold counted on the most in his situation.

Sonic gasped as he looked to see the terrified faces of the customers and staffers frozen, literally, in place. With both hands Sonic grabbed Cold's parka by the collar and pulled the villain to a close, face-to-face encounter. "What'd you do?" Sonic demanded.

Cold met Sonic with a stony sincerity, "Nothing serious, yet. They're just trapped under the ice. But, if they're not freed, soon, by someone that can crack that ice in a hurry, they might come to harm."

Sonic grunted, with full knowledge of what Cold wanted. But, Sonic, as the heroic type that he always was, chose the victims over the attacker. Sonic leaped from his position atop Cold and began a merciless assault on the wall of ice that threatened to entomb the store's customers. It was then that Cold rolled over, got on his feet and made a dash for the exit. After he reclaimed his other cold gun from across the room, Cold high-hurdled the windowpane and dashed out into the streets, his loot completely abandoned. Meanwhile Sonic continued to hammer away at the ice.

By the time the ice was cleared, victims freed and gratuitous "thank you" compliments were poured out in buckets, precious minutes had been lost along with any plan to recapture Cold. Sonic sighed, disappointed that he had, lost his new "friend." But, he made up for it with the break-up of a daring daylight robbery. Though there had been damage to the store, the unfortunate victims were rescued and most of the jewelry was salvageable. For Sonic, that was a good day's work, if a little discouraged by a small snag. But, on another level, Sonic was worried that the "small snag" would come back to haunt him.

* * *

**Day 12 – 10:00 – Station Square – Undisclosed Location Underground**

"Ah, not as easy as you thought it would be, eh?"

"Well, he's nobody's fool, that's for sure."

"Frankly, Cold, I think you should have done a better job of picking your choice of a place to trap the hedgehog."

"Oh, well, thank you Scudder. But, I'm sure you remember that hindsight _is_ twenty-twenty, after all."

FOLLOWING the debacle at the jewelry store, Cold had managed to retreat back to Eggman's secret hideaway beneath Station Square's busy streets via the sewer system. Eggman had, of course, started off with a dose of smarm that Captain Cold found all too repellant. Then Mirror Master had his say. It was at that point that Trickster spoke up.

"Ah. See, you've got to take the audience by surprise, guys," said the most colorful of the Rogues. "You made your trap too obvious, Cold. Let me go ahead and take a crack at that walking pin cushion, I'll barnstorm him. You'll see!"

Eggman chuckled, "Well, it seems we have our next volunteer, Captain. What do you say?"

Cold eyed Trickster over for a moment, "If you think you can, then by all means."

Trickster's eyes lit up behind his mask. There was just something about a new challenge. But, before he got too far ahead of himself, Trickster turned to Eggman and asked, "Hey, Doc, do you know any places that Sonic likes to hang out?"

Eggman smiled.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**Sonic the Hedgehog**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to the Sega Corporation.**

_**The Flash**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to DC Comics.**


	4. Tricks

**Day 12 – 15:35 – Station Square – Memorial Park**

IT should always be hoped that people, human and otherwise, will always appreciate the beauty of the grass of the field, the trees of the forest, and the creatures that call them home; even the lowly worm and the ugly crow. That is why every city should remember to keep a park or other recreational area that, limited as it may be, can at least remind Man of the fragile, artificial existence he has cultivated for himself. If not for the concrete, the asphalt, the glass and steel, then all the world would look much like a park, though far more feral and intimidating. So delicate is the balance of chaos and order; peace and quiet, carnage and rage. Though a park is tame and manicured to fit the more pleasing sides of Man's temper, it is wise and proper in its own way, to maintain a relaxed park atmosphere. A calm, green park gives life and still joy to a person who spends all day on concrete, staring at gray walls, and scrambling to finish multiple tasks before a clock made their life more miserable with the announcement of a deadline set by an employer under their own pressures. It is just nice to leave one's abnormal "normal" life, on occasion.

Sonic the Hedgehog called no one boss and answered no authority. Yet, he still had a "living to make," of sorts. Really, it was a way of life: helping others to help themselves, for a greater good. More often than not, this was reflected in his actions of daring-do and heroics. It better fitted the wild daredevil in Sonic's heart. So, then, while others complained of traffic jams, deadlines, and paperwork, Sonic braved foes worse than any boss and dangers greater than paper-cuts and failure to meet deadlines. Though his "job" was more life-threatening, Sonic took one thing away from his "work" that most people rarely get to claim: a healthy dose of pleasure in his tasks. Still, just like anyone who works in an office, in jobs that ranged from janitors to CEOs, Sonic liked to "leave all that behind," and go to the park.

Sonic snoozed on the branch of a park tree, occasionally disturbed by children as they ran around the tree in play. Sonic would frown a little, with one eye slightly opened, annoyed at an unwanted wake-up call, but always smiled at how happy the kids were. Sonic's few attempts to be angry were always weak against joy and happiness. Both served as a good tonic that allowed Sonic to drift back to sleep. However, he was soon awakened by a sound that always made him happy to hear: the whisper of fur as it twirled in the air at a quick pace.

Tails, Sonic thought.

As the sound died down, Sonic took note of a small fox-lad who plopped to the ground next to the tree. Miles Prower was such an uncommon little boy, even younger than middle-teenager Sonic. Miles was much smarter than the average boy his age, even smarter than most adults. He could build and operate machines that would make someone's greatest accomplishments seem like so many tinker-toys. At least, that was his potential. As a boy, Miles was still possessed of the naiveté and innocence of a child. He could be easily fooled by simple ruses crafted by nasty individuals, especially Sonic's adversary: Eggman. A lot of times, he did not understand the "unnecessary" complications that adults wrapped themselves up in. Yes, Miles, for all of his potential wisdom, had quite a bit to learn; as we all do. It is sage advice to remember what the great General Lee said, "A man's education is never truly complete until he is dead." Somber words, but wise beyond years and nations.

Sonic regarded Miles, as he looked around the area with an inquisitive – perhaps lost – look on his face. His sky blue eyes, set in his small head, with orange and white fur that covered all of his face and body, were strained into different directions as the vulpine explorer peered about. Sonic could tell, by Miles's body language that he was looking for him. The big tip off was the way he twitched his tails. Yes, tails. Not unlike Sonic, Miles was not one to easily disappear in a crowd, unless it was a crowd of average height humans that towered over their comparatively "tiny" bodies. Otherwise, Miles's pair of long, fluffy tails could be seen at great distances. Though they were always erect, like Miles's personality, energetic and "up for anything," they always forked off, as if they felt the air around them and looked for things to do and be a part of. They would twitch, though, in accordance with Miles's attitudes. At the moment, as they swayed left and right and hanged a little lower than normal, they were like semaphore flags that signaled he was, indeed, on the search for something; actually someone. Those tails, since they were so prominent in the boy's appearance and nature had given rise to Miles's preferred nickname: simply, "Tails."

Sonic waited for Tails to look up in the tree, but for whatever reason, he never did. Odd, Sonic thought, since Tails knew that he liked "private" little places to use for his outings. As Tails never did simply look up, Sonic decided, with a gymnast's skill, to hop up from his branch, leap to another branch, grab it with his hands and drop to the ground, right behind his best of friends.

Tails heard the sound of the grass as it crumpled under Sonic's feet and spun around, a smile on his small face, "Sonic!"

Sonic smiled back, "Tails. What's happening?"

"Oh, nothing much; got tired of working in the shop, so I thought I'd come looking for you. What have you been up to?"

Sonic stretched and yawned and banished away the last of his sleepy feelings, "Ah, just the usual things."

It was something of bait. Sonic knew that Tails knew that whenever he'd say, "the usual," it always related back to things that were beyond the average events of any regular person's day. That is why Tails simply asked, "Like what?"

"Well," Sonic began as he started to walk past Tails a little – a signal that he wanted to walk, which beat standing still, though he probably would have preferred to run. "Nothing too much, except for a weird fight I got into, today."

"Fight?" Tails spun around and took a couple rapid steps to match up with Sonic's pace, "With Eggman?"

"No, no," Sonic said with a dismissive wag of his hand, "someone else. It was some weirdo in one of those polar explorer's outfits, you know, parkas and stuff like that."

"A parka? In this heat?" Tails's astonished look was not overly dramatic; it _was_ July, after all.

Sonic chuckled, "Well, you've got to understand. The guy was carrying some strange guns that shot ice."

Tails stopped dead in his tracks and eyed Sonic over for a moment, "Sonic? Is this another one of your little jokes?"

Sonic rolled his eyes and almost laughed, "_If only_. Come on, I'll explain everything."

Tails trusted Sonic enough to let him have the benefit of the doubt and calmly walked beside his hero, mentor and partner and listened, in astonishment, at Sonic's description of his run-in with Captain Cold.

* * *

**Day 12 – 15:46 – Station Square – East Memorial Park**

"Wow, that's some story," Tails said, once Sonic finished his account of the altercation.

"Yeah; fortunately, the guy was easier than Eggman. No wild robots and crazy Egg-Mobile, after all."

TAILS giggled at the comparisons and contrasts. After all, the fight did not seem to last any longer than it took for Sonic to retell the tale. However, he was not all giggles. Tails's mood shifted, once his natural curiosity began to creep in from the analytical part of his mind. With a hum, Tails asked, "We've never seen this 'Captain Cold' guy around, before, Sonic. Where do you think he came from? Or, how did he know your name? And, why did he seem more interested in fighting you than getting away with the jewelry he was stealing?"

Sonic frowned a little, an equally thoughtful look on his face, "Don't know. It's the stuff like that that's been bugging me all afternoon."

"Well-" Tails began to share a thought, when he heard a man ahead of them. "What's that?"

"Don't know," Sonic said, as they approached a blonde man in a bizarre striped costume, complete with a cape and eye mask. "Looks like some kind of circus performer, or something."

The hedgehog and fox casually walked up to the man, as he was in the middle of a showman's oratory. It was classic sidewalk performance bombast, accentuated with well-timed hand gestures.

"Come one, come all," the man declared, "and be amazed by feats of magic and skill that have been lost from the masses for years upon years! See it here, prestidigitation, sleight of hand, tricks and puzzles! Be amazed, be amazed, be amazed!"

A small crowd had gathered around the man, maybe a full dozen, maybe fewer. Sonic and Tails came up to the side of the group, to see this strangely clad man, who stood atop a small, wooden stand, so that anyone could see him for quite a distance away. Tails was somewhat taken by the costume and behavior, while Sonic simply found the antics amusing. Neither said anything while the man continued to harangue his small audience.

"Yes sir, step right up, step right up! I can guarantee you a show you'll never forget, folks! See it live and in person: things that you'll never get to experience first-hand on television, in movies, or through video games!" Suddenly, without their knowledge that he had seen them, when the man's eyes came across Sonic and Tails on the edge of the group in front of him, his smile broadened a bit. "Okay! I think we're ready to start some magic, folks! May I have a volunteer from the audience; it can be anyone, anyone at all!"

There were a few other kids besides Tails, but the colorful street performer only seemed to have eyes for the fox-boy whose hand had shot up at the first mention of a volunteer. "You there, boy," he said, "come on up here!"

Tails chuckled with childlike glee that he was going to be part of the show. With a pat on his back from Sonic as a sign of "good luck," Tails dashed up and onto the dais.

"Why hello there," the performer greeted, "tell me son, what's your name?"

"Mi-" Tails caught himself. He did not like to share his personal name with strangers, "Tails."

"Tails?" the performer asked with astonishment, "The same young boy who's friends to none other than Sonic the Hedgehog, hero of Station Square? The same Tails who's quite the hero, himself?"

Tails kicked the ground a little, shyly, with one hand that scratched nervously at his neck, "Yeah." His cheeks even reddened under his fur.

The performer addressed the crowd, "Come on folks! Give the boy a hand! And don't forget his friend, Sonic, just off to the side, over there!"

Everyone clapped and cheered for the two heroes. Tails was driven into even more bashful body language as his head shied away from the crowd, while Sonic, on the other hand, merely soaked up the applause, heartily.

The performer had "dawdled enough," though and finally announced his intentions for his first trick. "Okay, now Tails, I've got something I want you to do for me."

"Sure, what is it?" Tails pounced on the offer to help, his shyness gone with the applause.

"I know you've seen this trick, before, but I have my own way of doing it."

"Okay," Tails willingly accepted the statement. He was then shown a deck of playing cards, the face-sides showing towards him.

"Now, this is an oldie but a goodie Tails. First, tell me, are any of these cards," his wrist flexed and the cards were evenly spaced apart, so that all of the numbers and letters could be seen, with their respective suits. "Do these look like ordinary playing cards?"

Tails inspected them. Quickly, his engineer's mind did not detect anything out of the ordinary, "Yes."

"Do you see anything, anything at all, different or 'rigged' about these cards?"

Tails inspected them, again, "Nope. They look fine to me."

"Good, good!" The performer was all smiles, "I want you to go ahead and pick a card from the deck, any old card your little heart desires."

Tails smiled and obediently reached out for a card. Without much thought on the matter, he had reached for the Ace of Spades: a classic choice.

"Now, then, take the rest of the deck," he flipped all the cards back to their original stack shape, "insert the card, where I can't see it, and then give the deck back to me."

"Sure," Tails said as he quickly took the deck, turned his back to the performer, slid the card back into the middle, and handed the deck back to him.

"Thank you," was the response, as the caped man turned his back to the crowd, and Tails, shuffled around underneath his cape, then spun around, the deck in his hand. "Now, Tails," he asked once more, "the deck we used had nothing out of the ordinary about it, correct?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, with that proven, then there's only way that I can have your card: the fine art of magic." He made a dramatic pause, then uplifted the deck in a broad flourish so that the card on the bottom could be shown, "Tails, is this your card?"

Tails was pleasantly surprised to see that the Ace of Spades had, indeed, made its way to the bottom of the card deck, "Why yes! Yes it is!"

The performer's smile was decidedly darker and more mischievous when he suddenly, and quietly, said, "Good."

With that, the performer pressed a button on "the deck," and caused a small vent to open in the center of the Spade. The deck was, in point of fact, a small vial of knock-out toxin that quickly expended itself towards Tails's unprotected face, far faster than he could even think about it, let alone dodge it.

With a good whiff from the vial's acrid contents, Tails was quickly rendered delirious, only able to blurt out, "Hey, what-" before he was left wobbly-legged, quickly followed by a short trip to the dais's surface. Tails was completely unconscious. The crowd gasped; at least all but one member of it did.

"Tails!" Sonic shouted out of shock and horror.

The azure hero made fast to get by his friend's side. Suddenly, before he could get more than a couple feet from his starting point, the performer let loose with a cackle, spun around, produced a baton from his cape, and pointed it directly at Sonic. Either because he did not normally see any danger from a baton, or that he was blinded by Tails's perilous position, Sonic did not expect what happened. With a firm squeeze of the baton, its plastic top fired off, like a bullet, and rocketed through the air courtesy of a small missile housed within. It struck Sonic squarely in the left shoulder and knocked the would-be rescuer backwards and onto his side, with a grunt.

The performer immediately declared, as smoke wafted away from the headless end of the baton, "First act's over folks! Now, if you'll pardon me, I'm going to make me, and my little assistant here, disappear!"

The dais threw smoke and small flames everywhere as it revealed itself to be a rocket platform, in disguise. It slowly hovered into the air, then, with a roar, it whisked through the air and gained altitude as it flew off. The crowd, most of which had dispersed in fear of its life, was reduced to a couple of helpful souls who rushed to Sonic's side.

"Sonic, Sonic!" a young man said as he helped the hedgehog up into a sitting position, "That guy's taken Tails! You've got to stop him!"

Sonic, quickly regained his thoughts and balance as he hopped to his feet. "Yeah?" he asked defiantly. "We'll see about that!" He was off in a streak of blue, in hot pursuit of the thin smoke trail left by the platform's rockets.

* * *

**Day 12 – 15:59 – Station Square South – City Airspace**

AHEAD of the pursuer, the performer was busy with some restraints for Tails. They were classic ropes, since Tails had the ability to fly, not super strength. It was a good thing, for the captor that he tied the young vulpine up, as he was over the effects of the gas and had begun to come to.

"Hey," Tails murmured, "what's this?" He tried to struggle against the binds. As he found his senses, along with the predicament he was in, Tails spoke more clearly, "Why are you doing this?"

Tails's travelling companion flashed a quick smile, "Sorry, there, kid, nothing personal; just part of the show."

Tails blustered, "What? What show?"

The smile broadened as the man chuckled, "Why, the final act in Sonic's career!"

Tails went wide-eyed at the wild whirlwind of events that had proceeded from simply having watched, what he thought, was a simple street performer. He had gone from an afternoon of hanging out with Sonic to what amounted to an assassination attempt. Fortunately, he was used to such rollercoaster antics: Sonic's life was full of ups and downs. It was then that Tails smiled, firstly because he thought of Sonic and secondly because he could see Sonic.

The hostage-taker noticed that Tails looked at something over his shoulder. This caused the masked man to look behind himself. The way he crouched down beside Tails, he had his back to a series of buildings and skyscrapers that whizzed by them at high speeds. But, sure enough, _he_ ran along them at equally high speeds. Sonic was far from the type to abandon a friend. If it meant a race through town, along the very sides and windows of skyscrapers and other such city landmarks, then by thunder, he would do it.

Sonic had overheard the last part of the attacker's plan. With a smirk, as he looked upwards – at his angle, this meant that Sonic looked _across_ the gap between him and the dais – so that he could lock eyes with his and Tails's antagonist. "Really?" Sonic asked. "Frankly, I always thought people loved daredevils."

The street-performing criminal actually laughed at Sonic's small inside joke: performer to performer, if you will. "That may be true," his smile masked his intentions quite nicely, "but, I'm afraid that I don't like to share the limelight!"

Like before, with the baton, Sonic was taken off guard by the spastic action his attacker made. Except, this time, the attack consisted of, what Sonic guessed had to be, super-high-bouncing-balls. With a reach under his cape and a sudden whipping motion that caused his cape to twirl a little harder in the wind, the masked man threw the rubber balls at Sonic. Sonic did not know how they did it, but when the balls connected, they carried a punch strong enough to almost make him stumble, from the fortieth storey of a building that would have been, for the better lack of a technical word, "bad." Sonic regained his balance, though, and maintained the high velocity necessary for him to keep him on his perilous run. However, he was shocked to find that the bouncing-balls may have bounced away, but they soon bounced across the street, into the street, and in various directions, only to be come back at Sonic for another shot.

"Whoa!" Sonic shouted as the bouncing-balls struck about him again. He even had to throw his arms up to his face to keep them from any attempt at his vulnerable eyes or nose.

Sonic could not stand this, the bouncing-balls had the power of a good punch, but the erratic trajectories and moments of unpredictable absence, as they bounced away to ricochet off buildings and streets, made defense near impossible, especially in the tenuous above-street-level position he was in. Finally, he decided he needed to make some erratic moves of his own. Instantly, he dodged of to the right, down toward the streets. When the bouncing-balls came back, they impacted just behind him. Sonic chuckled at his intelligent maneuver; it was short-lived. Sure enough, the bouncing-balls readjusted their bounce pattern, and were soon on their way to attack Sonic, once more. Sonic dodged left, they dodged left; Sonic dodged right, they dodged right; up, down, every way that Sonic could go. All the while, the dais roared through the air as it made good use of Sonic's distracted, non-linear path.

What is with those things, Sonic thought to himself. How do they know where I'm going to be? It's not like I'm wearing a homing… It hit him.

Sonic frantically patted all over his body, in search of what he suspected called the bouncing-balls to their target. He patted his head, arms, and torso; nothing. Suddenly, he remembered the baton attack. Sure enough, there it was, on his shoulder, a small black speck. It did not make any visible effort to attract the pesky spheres, but it certainly must have used a radio signal – something – to cause the bouncing-balls to swarm at Sonic so vigorously. The hedgehog chuckled as he got an idea. Sonic suddenly adjusted his course and poured on extra speed as he ran straight down the building he was on and made his way to the streets below, the bouncing-balls right behind him.

Once he was street level, Sonic sought out two things. First, he needed a trash-can lid. That was easy to find as he dashed right by a side-alley where one stood, its lid hung loose. Sonic grabbed the piece of aluminum and kept his momentum up, as the bouncing-balls pin-balled their way around the streets. Sonic then used the trash-can lid as a shield, whenever one of the bouncing-balls got a little too close for his comfort. It was effective, but he could not depend on it to sustain too much damage. Sonic actually worried that someone might get hit, but he made sure to pick the paths with the fewest people on them. Even if they did get hit, though, the most damage they would receive would be a large bruise. Another fact in Sonic's favor was that the bouncing-balls were after him, so a stray hit would be incidental. Still, he hoped no one got hurt on account of some "freak in a cape."

The second thing that Sonic looked for was a little more difficult to get hold of. Though the city was covered in asphalt and concrete Sonic needed, out of all of it, a small chunk that had broken off from any building, sidewalk, or road. Any small piece would do. Sonic smiled when he saw a piece of asphalt that had been rained on enough to chisel it free from the rest of the street. It was not a huge piece, but it was a little bigger than what Sonic wanted. "Beggars can't be choosers," so Sonic happily grabbed it. With the trash-can lid under his arm, Sonic fitted the homing beacon to the asphalt chunk. With a smile, he managed to get the device to stick in a small crevice in the chunk's surface. Sonic increased speed further and weaved out into the center of the street and began to gain on the flying platform.

Once Sonic was sure he had sufficiently closed with the airborne machine, and that the last of the balls bounced off his "shield," he pulled up the asphalt piece and, with all his speed and might, threw it at the dais. It impacted on the underside, just in front of the exhaust ports of the rockets. Once it hit, it was wedged into the dais's undercarriage. Sonic smirked, his eyes filled with a mischievous glee, when he saw the bouncing-balls veer off, in hot pursuit of the tracking device.

With his path freed up, Sonic dashed back after the craft, with full determination to liberate Tails, with help from his foe's own weaponry. His speed built back up, Sonic ran up and across the side of another building and ran further and further up the side, until he was leveled off with the dais, which was already under attack from the bouncing-balls, something that made Sonic chuckle a little, to see his friend's kidnapper duck and dodge the attacks meant for him. Sonic frowned a little when he saw that the felonious fellow was prepared for this situation. He saw the baton manifested from the man's cape, once more, and with a press of a hidden switch, the bouncing-balls lost all interest in the tracking device and gradually lost speed and power, until they eventually dropped off to the ground below. By that time, Sonic was right beside the dais, once more.

Before anyone aboard the dais could take notice of Sonic, he jumped across the narrow gap between the buildings and the dais and landed right behind Tails. With a triumphant shout, Sonic got everyone's attention. "So, can't handle your own medicine, eh?"

The hostage-taker spun about, while Tails simply looked over his shoulder; one smiled while the other frowned with a determination that matched Sonic's. The frowner quipped, "Nah, not really. But, then again, I'm not a doctor." With a wicked grin, the troublesome man reached inside his cape, yet again, and this time produced a small can. "Think fast!"

Sonic, without much thought on the matter, instinctively caught the small canister. His faced screwed up into confusion as Sonic reflexively read aloud, "Peanut Brittle?"

The hedgehog was knocked onto his back when the misleading concussive grenade exploded in a bright flash. Only after he was on his back and his eyes tried to recover their sight with fervent blinks what had happened. Sonic covered his ears with his hands in whatever attempt he could make to ease their suffering. After his vision realigned, Sonic noticed that someone stood over him. He could make out the blond hair, mask, everything that his opponent wore. Sonic then felt an intense pressure on his chest and abdomen as a curly-toed boot was driven into his torso.

"Oh, don't bother getting up," Sonic's adversary ordered. "The name's Trickster. As for you, I think you'll need a new name: how about mud?" Trickster's malicious grin revealed that he was done with his performance, it was time for that "final act" that he had mentioned.

Or, so it would have been.

Sonic grabbed Trickster's leg, with his smirk back, "Nah. It's not as catchy as Sonic."

With one mighty wrenching motion, Sonic shifted both his torso and his arms to twist Trickster off of his prone figure; the human was taken completely by surprise with the hedgehog's strength. Trickster's center of gravity was thrown out of whack and the ne'er-do-well was forced to stumble off of Sonic. In his attempt to right himself, though, he did not notice Tails, who shoved his feet out into Trickster's path. In a matter of moments, he flailed about the dais's small surface, tumbled over the side and only managed to latch onto the edge with one hand. Ironically, both hedgehog and fox were relieved, since they battle robots all the time, they had no problem with their destruction. But, humans – and various other _living_ creatures – and their ability to actually die worried the two. They could not bring themselves to actually harm someone, regardless of their foes' attempts to harm them. With Trickster in dispose, Sonic rolled over onto his knees and quickly untied Tails's bonds. The two exchanged smiles of brotherly love then scrambled over to the edge, where Trickster dangled over the city streets.

"Come on," Sonic offered, his hands outstretched, "grab hold and we'll pull you up!"

Trickster seemed offended, "What? So, the two of you can drop me off in jail?"

Sonic was surprised by the man's lack of self-preservation, so he ordered him to save himself, "Come on!"

Trickster smirked, "Sorry, but I don't do 'private gigs' for the police."

With that, he released his handhold and began to plummet to the streets below. Sonic's and Tails's eyes went wide, they were about to launch a desperate rescue attempt, when suddenly, the dais increased speed dramatically and began to gain altitude once more. Forty-fifth storey, fifty, sixty, eighty; the two heroes panicked at the machine's reckless acceleration and elevation. As it climbed, Sonic and Tails made out a distinctive "beep-beep" sound that built up speed, with the engine.

When he felt the intense build up of heat from the engines shouted, "Sonic! I think this thing's about to overheat!"

"No kidding!"

With that, Sonic and Tails leaped from the out of control machine. As mentioned before, Tails possessed the rare ability to fly. He manifested this ability when the muscles tensed down his spine and set his twin appendages into a flurry of helicopter-like twists that initially slowed and then stopped his descent. Sonic, who had jumped at about the same time, clasped Tails's hands, thus the both of them were saved. Shortly thereafter, they saw the dais, true to Tails's diagnosis, overheat and explode. But, that was not their primary concern, once they were airborne. Without any verbal exchange, Tails and Sonic immediately made their way back to the last spot they saw Trickster, fearful as to what had become of the apparently suicidal maniac. They expected a scene of horror. What they saw, instead, was a scene right out of fantasy, or at the very least, science-fiction.

"My, my, that's a fine acrobatic act you've got there, Sonic."

There he _stood_ in mid-air, Trickster: his arms were crossed, his cape fluttered in the high altitude wind, and he sported a very large grin across his face. "Yes sir, that's something else. Mind to tell me how you two do that?"

Sonic motioned with his head, "You first!"

"Oh, now, if I told you how I do this," Trickster motioned with his hands, toward his stationary, yet levitated, form, "then I'd ruin the fun!"

"I think you've had enough fun, for one day," Tails spoke up. Sonic merely resumed his determined look, in agreement to Tails's statement.

"You know, you're right," Trickster shrugged. "I think I'll just go take the rest of the day off, you two know how to wear a guy out."

The two were then shocked to see the man simply turned his back to them and casually stroll across the city skyline, as if he were, indeed, a common performer that made his way to his dressing room to prepare for the next show.

"Oh no you don't," Sonic called, "I think you need to make that gig for the prison, you mentioned earlier."

Tails followed suit on Sonic's idea with a hasty push forward, as his tails revved up their speed and began to close the distance between them and Trickster. Trickster noticed this.

"Sorry," the masked man smiled, "I don't do autographs, but how's about some gum, instead!"

With that, he produced a large pack of what, according to his description, was a pack of gum. The object flew through the air and came within inches of Tails's limbs as they gyrated in circles, then suddenly burst apart into a sticky pink substance, a lot of it. Tails panicked when the glop scattered all over his backside, and literally gummed up his flight mechanics. With a scream, he and Sonic lost altitude. Then, the two fell toward the street with ever-increasing speed. Trickster had taken off into a run once he threw his "gum," but turned his head a little to see the two heroes continue their one-way trip, straight down.

Tails had already panicked, without any means way to fix the disaster that he and his friend had been dropped into – quite literally. Sonic, on the other hand, was already in the midst of a plan. "Tails," he called, "quick, hold onto me!"

When Tails had "climbed down" onto Sonic, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders on his backside, Sonic threw his arms out for the first thing he saw that offered salvation: the wiring for a traffic light that dangled over an intersection directly beneath the duo. Sonic did not want to grab the wiring and hold onto it: that, in itself, was just as dangerous. If the wires snapped, if Sonic's arms gave out: there were dozens of ways that things could go from worse to tragic. No, Sonic did not grab the wires but for a minute. Once he made a downward swing, he released the wires and went in a wide arc over the street. Through the air, Sonic and Tails soared over to a tree in the sidewalk. There Sonic grabbed another branch and repeated his gymnast's trick. This time, however, there was nothing else to grab onto. Sonic only hoped that their momentum had been slowed enough that, when he and Tails began to succumb to gravity, he would be able to pull off a stunt of near-total desperation. As their arc began to ebb toward the street, Sonic began to run in place, at top speed. It would have been best if he could tuck and roll a standard maneuver of his, but to do so with Tails on his back put the young fox in danger. Sonic figured that his knees could better absorb the damage than Tails's whole body.

When they impacted, Sonic was on the move in an instant, though his knees did complain of such a sharp blow, they could tolerate it and provide him with the best means to lose the last of the momentum that the two had built up. Sonic's run slowed down and down until it turned to a walk. Finally, with a relieved slunk to his knees, Sonic dropped himself and Tails to the ground, safely.

Tails did not know what all had happened, but by the time he found the courage to look around, he opened his eyes to find he and Sonic sat in the middle of a sidewalk, Sonic on his knees as the hedgehog grunted and sighed a little at the miraculous, though physically abusive, rescue he had managed to perform. When he realized that his hero-partner had pulled their fat out of the fire, once again, he hugged around his shoulders with great force and declared, "Wow, Sonic! You've done it again! Thanks!"

Sonic chuckled, and gently pried at the boys arms, "Easy, easy. It's not something I haven't done before, so don't go all 'Amy' on me."

The lad chuckled and let his ears droop in embarrassment, "Sorry." Through his embarrassment, though, he managed to smile with a little red in his face.

Sonic, disaster averted and his friend's thanks having been said, took a more serious tone, when he scrunched his face up in thought. "That's two costumed killers that have come at me, today."

Tails, whom had moved on to an effort to remove the goo from his back and rotary appendages, stopped a moment, his tails still in hand. He glanced to Sonic, "Yeah. You're right; in the same day, too. Something's _got_ to be up."

Sonic hummed an affirmation.

"Eggman, I bet," the fox said solemnly.

"Who else?" Sonic smirked.

"That's two attempts in one day, by two different attackers. Eggman's hired these guys, all right. But," Tails's voice began to sound of an ominous, worried tone, "how many more do you think there are? And, what do you think they're capable of?"

"Well, so far," Sonic dryly quipped, "one's a cold-fiend and the other was a fugitive from a carnival."

"But, what if there's more?" Tails repeated, with more concern this time.

"So?" Sonic returned glibly. "Two or two hundred, Eggman's never been the type to come up with the plan that can stop me, yet. And even though that 'Captain Cold' and this 'Trickster' guy have been pretty close to putting me in real danger, it's not like they stood a chance." Sonic laughed a little at the thought.

Tails swatted at Sonic's shoulder, playfully, "Hey! Remember, Trickster just dropped us from forty floors up!"

Sonic shrugged, "What? We haven't been dropped from higher places?"

"Sonic!" Tails whined, as he began a mock rough-housing match with Sonic.

Some distance away, a few blocks to be exact, Trickster still levitated in mid-air, courtesy of his anti-gravity shoes. He held a small circular device to his ear, a large "T" stamped into its reverse side. It was a micro-receiver that allowed him to eavesdrop on his intended targets. Though he was sure that the "gum" trick would get them, he did not want to ruin his chances of an escape, should the two survive the fall, which they did. He had heard everything via the micro-transmitter that had been carried with the booby-trapped substance. He was most surprised that the two of them had not made an effort to continue their pursuit. But, given that the crowded city offered a maze of directions and combinations of streets to cross, he automatically assumed that the two did not see any point to "find a needle in a haystack," even with super-speed. If they got off on the wrong trail, Trickster could have been miles away by the time they tried the right direction. For that, he was thankful. However, he was not pleased to hear that they had so blatantly guessed the name of his contractor. Nor did his ego appreciate the hedgehog's excessively large self-important perspective. Large egos rarely like a challenger, especially since they always tried to undercut each other. Although, Trickster did smile to himself: it seemed that neither of his targets were all that interested in the idea that a listening device might be in the sticky slime mired onto Tails's back. With that, he casually strolled through the air.

* * *

**Day 12 – 21:38 – Station Square – Undisclosed Location Underground**

CAPTAIN Cold held his cold gun loosely while he inspected the item, as it rested on his hip. He sat there and calmly waited for Trickster's return, along with Eggman and Mirror Master. The Doctor sat at the head of a small metallic conference table; his guests occupied the chairs nearest him. But, it was Cold who said something first, the moment Trickster nonchalantly walked into the room.

"Well, well," the winter warrior said slyly, he leaned his head forward so that his eyes could see directly over the blackened lenses of his visor, "the 'star performer' finally returns home; with reviews not that much better than mine."

Mirror Master chuckled heartily at this. Rarely did Cold make sarcastic remarks. But, when he did, they were characteristically _icy_.

"Hey," Trickster blithely shrugged, "at least I came closer to putting them on ice than you did; and remember, the odds were two to one."

"That may be," Eggman spoke up. Up until then, his back was turned to the two Rogues, but once all three were present, he swiveled his chair around. "But, you three are supposed to be among the most dangerous criminals in Keystone City. My only consolation in your failures, so far, has been the fact that I at least know that Sonic's certainly a capable adversary." He smiled, as if to laugh, "I _already _knew that, though. It's just that you three are slowly learning that lesson for yourselves."

"Yes, yes," Cold responded peevishly. He laid his cold gun on the table – a gaudy thing that was wholly silver-metallic, except for the large, obnoxious grin-decal of Eggman himself, in the center. "But, if I'm not mistaken, I think you brought us out here to get rid of that little pest, not insult us with how badly he can best us."

"Indeed," Eggman turned to the lead Rogue, "but, just remember that if you fail, it's your own doing." He then added, with a frown, "And, if you want to get paid, you'll have to beat that hedgehog into the ground. Then, you can have all the loot that you can carry out of Station Square. Until then, I can assure you, you won't be able to get a cent out of me. Technology is my treasure, not baubles and trinkets."

"Well, then," Cold's gaze drifted from Eggman to the chair opposite him, "that being the case. Mirror Master: it's up to you, this time."

The orange and green-clad man smiled – it should be disturbing that so many people should take such delight out of pure mischief work – "Don't worry, my dear associates. Come tomorrow, our mutual pest will be dealt with; and he won't even see it coming."

Trickster began to whistle a tune, which irritated Mirror Master for two reasons. First, it ruined his dramatic effects. Second, it was Trickster's way to get attention for himself.

"What is it?" Mirror Master rudely asked.

"What? Me?" Trickster asked in mock surprise, "Oh! You're probably wondering what I know that you should know." With a devious grin of his own, Trickster informed Mirror Master that, "Sonic has a date, tomorrow."

"A date?" Cold asked, interestedly.

"Ah," Eggman interjected, "I'll assume, then, that Amy is responsible?"

"Yes," Trickster nodded, "Ms. Amy Rose has gotten Sonic the Hedgehog to go with her to the mall, to do a little shopping."

"Perfect," Mirror Master said, with an even broader smile than before.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

**_Sonic the Hedgehog_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to the Sega Corporation.**

**_The Flash_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to DC Comics.**


	5. Mirrors

**Day 13 – 11:39 – Station Square – Buffy's Department Store**

AMY Rose was never one to take "no" for an answer once she set her sights on something she wanted. The ancient Greeks said that while foxes were talented creatures that relied more on wits to accomplish their goals, hedgehogs were the type of creature that had only a handful of means to their ends. In the average, woodland hedgehog or fox, this is very true. But, in Sonic and Tails, there were exceptions, though, ironically, they lived up to their less "civilized" cousins' characteristics. Sonic only understood one way to get things done: force of will. Tails was the true technical expert that augmented Sonic's abilities. Point for the Ancients. Yet, one would wish that, somewhere, they failed at their observation or statement: something.

Amy Rose was a hedgehog, herself. Younger than Sonic, though. In that awkward age between teenager and "kid" Amy certainly wanted to act mature. But, in her own special way, she half-succeeded. True, she was stylish: somehow she made a smart little red dress – though backless – with matching red and white-striped go-go boots work for her. Her red headband accentuated her pink hair – fur and quills, really – with its darker hue of "reddish" color that showed nicely. Yes, on many levels, Amy had the look of style, panache, and that certain something that would make her appear beyond her years. Then, again, that was the half-success that she had made in her life. Amy Rose's failing, to this day, was her immaturity. Now, that was not to say she was spoiled, selfish, or anything in that regard. No, Amy's immaturity lay in her inexperience with life, on the whole. Largely, Amy had seen and done things that gave her more experience than Tails, for instance.

You must understand that Amy Rose tried too hard to mature. She often forgot grace and civility in the name of what she felt was the quicker route to an end or purpose. Hence, this young hedgehog-girl often went blind to life's finer details whenever her hero and would-be boyfriend Sonic came into mind. Oh, it had started innocently enough: Eggman, amongst the many attempts he made to conquer the world, had dragged Amy into his plans when Sonic took the time out to rescue Amy in the midst of one of his attacks. Amy was star-struck at the sight of the up-and-coming hero, when he first rescued her, while Eggman only saw a pawn in his larger plans. Amy, over the years, when she first met Sonic as a genuine "kid" had developed a crush on Sonic. And, though Sonic preferred a bachelor's lifestyle – especially since he was barely a teenager when he met Amy – he always made the efforts to rescue Amy, as Eggman's plans sometimes dictated. As time moved on, and teenage years made Sonic more limber and athletic, Amy went from star-struck crush to complete infatuation. But, Sonic never returned her advances.

Most people would have given up. Most would have just thanked their lucky stars that, among Eggman's numerous attempts at world domination, they had not gotten hurt, or worse. Not Amy. Amy, instead, figured that she needed to "get on Sonic's level" for him to truly accept her. As a result, she began to exercise and train; diet and prepare. She did everything she could to make herself into a super heroic girlfriend worthy of Sonic, to the extent that her mind and body could handle it. Yes, a hedgehog, though limited in ability, is a determined creature. In that respect, Amy could move faster than the average person, just not as fast as Sonic. She could endure more than a few punches, just not as many or as powerful as those that Sonic sometimes received. Amy realized that, too. Maybe it was through science, maybe it was through sorcery, or maybe it was through a mixture of the two that nobody but Amy ever managed to make use of. Whatever it was that she used the young lady hedgehog had stumbled across a thing that some would call "hammer space."

Somewhere, no one but Amy knows where, there is a place where innumerable copies of the same item can be kept. It would look, at first glance, to be something that appears out of thin air. But, whatever it is: plane of existence, temporal pocket, tear in time and space, there is a place that Amy Rose can reach into and pull out, of all things, war hammers. No, they were not the kind of cruel things that Vikings or knights carried. They were not bladed, they were not clubbed, nor were they sharp or lethal. They were, literally _hammers_. Amy called it the "Piko-Piko" hammer. Though, they were actually several hammers: perhaps several hundred, no one still yet knows, save Amy. It is safe to say that Amy's Piko-Piko hammers, while they appeared toy-like and were colored in a peculiar pattern or reds, yellows, whites, and blues, were anything but harmless. With her strength, Amy could easily cause minor injuries, or, if she so felt the need, cause major damage. In this regard, Amy went from a simple damsel in distress to a genuine fighter capable of battles with Eggman's weaker or more easily surprised machines. Of course, if her anger was up, Amy very well _could_ appear like a Viking berserker with such violent swings of her hammers that she genuinely frightened Eggman – and on a lot of levels, Sonic as well. It was in this area: a balancing act between lady-like civility and brutish aggression that Amy often failed. Especially if she let her aggressive streak – which had grown quite wide over the years – cloud her mind while she thought of Sonic. It is no wonder, then, that Amy had earned a little-known – especially to her – nickname: "Rosy the Rascal." Some say that Eggman had created the name, after his first encounter with a Piko-Piko hammer. Others say it was just a popular item devised by public opinion. And, still others say that it was coined by none other than Sonic, himself.

If Sonic had authored Amy's nickname, it would have been understandable. As her advances had become harder and harder to ignore, Sonic found that he could not bring himself to start a relationship with any girl, let alone Amy. But, he would never tell her to leave him alone or anything of that nature, since that seemed "too harsh" in his opinion – though, one might wonder if her hammers had any say in that decision. Regardless, Sonic had managed to work out a kind of pact with Amy. If Amy would restrict the majority of her obsessive behaviors to smaller doses, Sonic would consent to an occasional "hang-out" period. He made it _very_ clear to her that such outings were _not_ dates. But, Amy's inner joys and euphoria slathered the word "date" all over the experience, if in her own mind. She hoped, against hope, that an occasional "date" with Sonic would make him "come to his senses" and cause her to appreciate her just as much as she adored – yea, worshipped – him. Thus, we have prefaced the situation about to be related.

Amy had come to Sonic's home, very much happy to remind him of his monthly obligation. After he had helped Tails to remove Trickster's gum-trap, Sonic was ready to call it a day. However, that was not as Amy saw it. Instead, with a big smile, she made it clear that a month had come and gone since their last outing and that it was high time to honor his agreement. Sonic knew that if he blew her off, then he would void his agreement with her and she would merrily come back again - as often as she liked - to moon over him and insist on an actual date. No, he had to pick the lesser of the two tasks. The meeting was arranged and the two followed through with it: Amy with zeal, Sonic with mild disgust.

At the department store, Amy happily walked ahead of Sonic, who stipulated that they were not to hold hands, amongst aisles of clothing and accessories. Sonic could never understand how anybody, man or woman, could adore clothing that much. His own limited wardrobe spoke of his non-attention to fashion or trends. Amy on the other hand…

"Oh, Sonic! What do you think of this one?"

Amy held up a dress that was more ornate than the one she already wore. It was purple, with ruffles and a couple of shoulder-ribbons, and a hem that reached to just above her ankles. Her smile was almost too much. Sonic merely mumbled a moment then said, "I guess, if you like it."

"I do," she said, not really aware of Sonic's complete disinterest in the item. "I think I'll try it on!"

Sonic shrugged.

Amy hefted the dress over her shoulder and made her way to an empty dressing-room. While she was gone, Sonic noticed that there were some CD racks nearby. With a casual glance towards the dressing rooms, Sonic sidled over to the jewel-cases filled with the latest albums. It was comical, actually, with his speed one would think that he had only made two steps, even though the distance travelled was roughly twenty paces away. Sonic snatched up a pair of demo-head-phones with a look of great relief. Music would be his tonic during his allotted time with Amy. A swipe of a CD barcode later and Sonic was lost in a world of rock and roll and mental playbacks of his favorite battles with Eggman. If only, he thought to himself, I could beat Eggman's butt to a soundtrack. He chuckled a little at the joke as his feet came to life with excited taps and his hands easily drifted into "air-guitar" mode.

Meanwhile, Amy stepped into the dressing room, with the dress delicately held in her arms. She hung it on a nearby hook then proceeded to look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to preen a little before she attempted to model the dress in its glass surface.

"Hi there."

Amy jerked to see where a voice came from: a male's voice; that was not Sonic's. She called out, "Sonic," she hoped that was him, "are you trying to pull a joke on me?" She hunkered down to see if he stood outside the door. No sign of blue legs or red sneakers, anywhere.

"No," the voice replied to her earlier question, "but, he'll wish this was."

Amy froze, still knelt down by the door. Slowly, her eyes turned toward the middle of the dressing room, toward the mirror. She fell on her side, for a moment, the fumbled about in an attempt to stand back up, with the wall as a brace. If she was not shocked out of her mind, she might have reached for a hammer. But, one normally does not expect to see someone else's reflection in a mirror.

A human male stood in the mirror, his hands on his hips, and a smug grin on his face, which was largely obscured by a green mask. His orange jumpsuit was the only other thing that grabbed Amy's attention, or did until he took his hands off his hips and reached for Amy. As he reached, the reflection – or so Amy had believed it to be – leaned _out_ of the mirror. With a shriek, Amy let everyone within earshot know that some strange man had begun an assault quit literally "through the looking glass."

"Sonic!!"

Even with the rock demo-reel turned up a little louder than average, Sonic could hear Amy's shriek and her call for his help. In a twinkling of the eye, he was over by the dressing rooms. Without much thought, he kicked open a random door. Much to his sheepish grin, he had stumbled across someone else – in a state of undress. Another woman's shriek went into the air.

Sonic fervently apologized, "Sorry! Sorry!" His hand then rammed the door back shut. He cursed himself for such an absent-minded blunder.

With a quick recovery, Sonic dropped to his hands and knees and scurried to and fro until he found a pair of red go-go boots with white stripes. With assured vigor, he leaped to his feet and kicked the correct door in. He was just as shocked as Amy had been earlier. No sooner than the door had been kicked in than Sonic saw Amy, in the arms of a strangely dressed man, pulled through the air and into the dressing-room mirror. Just as the soles of Amy's shoes melded into the mirror, Sonic shouted, "Amy!"

Sonic jumped to grab at her feet. But, it was in vain. Sonic's hand met a solid mirror-surface. He pounded his palm against the glass a time or two, to no avail. He could not reach inside the mirror. In a desperate move, Sonic wrenched the mirror from its tiny wall-mounts, only be greeted by slightly damaged plaster. "Amy!" he again shouted.

There was no answer, from anywhere. Amy's shouts and pleas for help had faded away, gone… into the mirror. Sonic spun the reflective item around to look into it again. He expected to see his reflection. But, he did not. Instead, the whole mirror surface was a field of white. On the white surface, though, like a piece of paper, there was a note.

"Sonic:

"If you want to save the girl; come to the condemned theme park outside town.

"-Mirror Master"

Sonic frowned. Eggman, he concluded. It was another one of his hired thugs. His frowned changed to righteous anger when he let the mirror fall against a wall and stand there. He raced out of the dressing room, as several spectators had heard the whole thing, scared to see what had actually happened inside the small changing room. Even more curiosity filled the air when the famous hero raced out of it, with a shout, "I'm coming Amy!"

* * *

**Day 13 – 11:59 – Outskirts of Station Square – Fantasy Land**

EVERYONE loves a good theme park: "civilized" society's mixture of natural wonder with technological novelty and amusements. They reflect the nature of a greenery park with machines and acts of skill. Here, Man's capabilities are the central attraction: mastery of electricity, engineering, construction – everything that Man can display unto himself and the world around him. However, when a theme park becomes abandoned, left untended, it rusts and decays and goes from merriment to forgotten memories and inevitable dust. Such was the sad fate of Fantasy Land when its owners found the park inefficient and incapable of generating revenue enough to warrant its operation. It was shut down and had not seen visitors for quite a while, until one "customer" showed up, unannounced.

Sonic eyed the amusement park over. How many times had Eggman used such deceptive locales to conceal traps and war machines? If this "Mirror Master" was anything like Eggman, apparently, he had a flair for the dramatic – if not for the absurd. There was no doubt that Eggman was behind the recent string of attempts against Sonic. Why else would a strange band of humans appear, with an immediate desire to will harm to Sonic, Tails or Amy? Amy.

She knew how to grind Sonic's gears, true. But, Sonic's love of life and will that everyone should be free to live their lives happily far outweighed any personal grievances he had with Amy, herself. His first priority was to take care of Amy. If everything worked out, he would manage to get out of his commitment to her, for the rest of the day. Sonic began a careful walk through the park.

For a moment, Sonic stopped and smirked at an old, junk vender stand. It sold chilidogs. He moved further into the park. It was then he noticed a series of rubber yellow arrows arranged on the ground. They were each laid out a few paces from the other. Sonic knew it was a trap, as both the kidnapping and the arrows stood as testament, but he was limited in options. He began to run at a very low speed to follow the breadcrumbs to their expected terminus. He travelled just fast enough that, when he reached his destination, his feet slid across the ground when came to a stop.

"Why am I not surprised? Sonic smirked at the place chosen for the intended trap: a fun house.

After a second of consideration, Sonic remembered the strange technology, power, whatever it was that gave this latest opponent the ability to, by Sonic's best guess, travel _through_ mirrors. Fun houses had lots of mirrors. Sonic was on territory that gave this man a huge edge. He had underestimated Captain Cold and Trickster to such points that he was very easily taken surprised by them. Still yet, he smirked. Sonic always loved a challenge. With that, the double doors swung loosely on their hinges as the single park visitor zipped inside.

Sonic calmly surveyed the first room of the fun house. He knew there had to be multiple rooms since, as he had seen from outside, the fun house had given him the impression of a building large enough to house a small maze. It was a fairly spare room, poorly lit. There were a lot of shadows, any of them a potential threat. But, in spite of potential threats, Sonic simply called out, "Hey! Mirror Master, if that's your name, I'm here! Now, where's Amy?"

A light sparkled into sight, a few feet away from Sonic, in the center of the room. The light took shape as the man that Sonic had glimpsed earlier that morning: a hologram. Mirror Master assumed a position of non-approach and superiority as he crossed his arms and his hologram peered down at the physically smaller hedgehog.

"Ah, Mr. Hedgehog," Mirror Master began.

Sonic bristled, "The name's Sonic, buddy."

Mirror Master grinned a little, "Well, Sonic, I'm glad you could make it."

"Where's Amy?"

"Don't worry, your girlfriend is safe."

Sonic hated it when people assumed too much about him and his personal life, "That's not what I asked."

Suddenly, a second hologram materialized in the air, a very short distance behind Mirror Master's reflected image. Amy dangled from a chain, bound up in more chains, with a small bomb strapped to her chest. Mirror Master responded, "She's with me, at the moment, Sonic. Of course, she'll remain safe for only so much longer." The bomb started to beep and Mirror Master frowned at Sonic, "You've got five minutes." With that, both holograms dissipated.

As the holograms vanished, the lights came on in the room and Sonic saw that he was in some sort of Valentine's-themed chamber, with rows of cherub-statues that lined the walkway to another door, a few feet ahead.

Sonic took one step forward.

That was when the cherubs' heart-shaped arrow heads began to fire off intense beams of light, refracted through the camouflaged crystal that the tips were made of. Sonic was forced to dodge left and right as the arrows' light beams whizzed in all directions, with every purpose to leave a fried hedgehog on the floor. But, Sonic merely jumped dodged and kept his momentum toward the door. He had no time to dawdle with the counterfeit angels, since Amy was in greater peril than he was – as he saw it. In moments, Sonic left the Valentine's room and careened into the next chamber: a decidedly darker-toned room, apparently a Halloween-inspired room with mock-up graveyards, ghost effigies, and faux-foliage.

Sonic moved too fast to immediately notice the attack that came on his right. It was by mere fractions of inches that he moved at the last split-second before a heavy flail flew toward him. At best, it nicked him. At worst, when Sonic saw the Eggman-donated robot: a kind of metallic werewolf creature that had a heavy ball and chain flail attached to its wrist. Sonic righted himself and prepared to attack the machine, since it stood so close to the door that led to the next room. He charged, full-tilt to hit the monstrous robot, but was shocked when he went right through it. A glance over his shoulder revealed it to be a hologram as well, that flickered and warbled back into its proper shape, once Sonic's obstruction passed through it.

Sonic just barely avoided the flail, again, when it made another attempt to crush its target. This time, when he got a chance to look around at the robotic assailant, he saw four of them. There was no mistake about it. One was the true attacker while the others were holograms. Sonic made another run for the robot nearest him, only to find out that it too was a reflected facsimile. This time, the flail slammed into Sonic's back and sent him through the air, out of control. In a daze he landed on the floor, hard. Sonic had precious micro-seconds to recompose himself and avoid the next – finishing – blow. Still jarred, he dodged and rolled as quickly as his garbled thought processes could guide him. He ducked behind a plaster tree for cover, though he knew it was nowhere near enough to withstand the deadly blows of the ball and chain.

It was then, if his slightly askew vision was not mistaken, that he noticed that three of the robots' feet were not "in" the machine-generated fog that lined the floor of the room. No, they appeared to wiggle and writhe disjointedly – mirror images that were refracted by the moisture that blanketed the floor. With an educated grin on his face, Sonic saw which robot had its feet firmly planted to the floorboards.

To its credit, the robot swung its blunt instrument, once more at Sonic and completely shattered the decorative "haunted oak" he used to hide himself. But, it was far from agile enough to recall the cumbersome chain and ball. With the necessary opening made, Sonic well-instructed the robot in its final failure. Sonic catapulted himself into the air, planted both feet firmly in the robot's chest, downed it, and finished it off with a simple Sonic Spin into the head and neck. It was that quick. However, it consumed precious seconds that Amy did not have to spare. Perhaps, the whole affair took a minute. Sonic did not wish to dwell on the matter. He zoomed through the exit.

The doorway led into a corridor, this time. It was a long, green hallway; that was about it – or, so one would have thought at first glance. As it turned out, the hallway was lined with trapdoors and secret passages that flew open to, ordinarily, frighten patrons of the fun house. In Sonic's case, each dummy was armed with one form of weapon or other. There were lasers, bombs, sharp blades and spikes of varied sizes; none of which stopped Sonic, but greedily ate into his deadline – or, rather, Amy's deadline.

Sonic cleared the corridor within moments and entered into yet another room: a hall of mirrors. The hedgehog groaned, "Of course."

"Ah-ah," Mirror Master's reflection chided, from a mirror on Sonic's right, "don't get discouraged. You're almost there. Too bad you only have two minutes left."

"Two minute warning, eh?" Sonic chuckled – more out of nervous habit. But, by his appearance, Mirror Master bought it. "Guess it's time to go for the touchdown."

"My, my," Mirror Master jeered back, "careful not to trip over your ego at the goal line."

"Me?" Sonic asked as he started to run along the mirrored passageways. "Don't count on it. Heroes always pull everyone's fat out of the fire, in style."

Sonic paid no mind to the fact that as he ran; Mirror Master's image appeared in all of the mirrors in the room, simultaneously. Nor did he give a fig about Mirror Master's laughter. What did get Sonic's attention was the high-powered laser pistol that Mirror Master pulled out, and then proceeded to use against him. He noticed that the laser shots could leave their origin mirror, but did not enter into any mirror they hit, something that gave Sonic new reason to respect his opponent's "presence" more than he had. Mirror Master must be using it like a one-way mirror, Sonic thought as he ducked another ricocheting blast, what goes out, doesn't go back in. What was worse, he realized, was that he had momentarily forgotten about Amy.

Sonic redoubled his efforts to bypass Mirror Master's latest ploy to divert his attention from Amy. After what can be best described as "some fancy footwork," Sonic dodged another group of lasers bolts, leaped into the air, spotted the exit from the maze, and ducked through the doorway. Fortunately – finally – he saw Amy just up ahead. Unfortunately, Sonic literally had "tunnel-vision" as he streaked forward. When he saw Amy, she was at the end of a long, cylindrical hallway that rolled around and around. For most, the effect would be that they could not stand properly. But, for Sonic, since Mirror Master had the device set on its maximum speed, the high-velocity victim was twirled end over end as his rapid legs barely grazed over the surface while he was taken from upright to sideways to upside down. When Sonic reached the end of the short tunnel, his contrary position caused him to run headlong into the floor. Sonic did not know what hurt more, the blow or the fact that he had "tripped at the goal line." He did not have time to weigh the issue. The timer on Amy's bomb had reached three seconds.

Sonic jumped to his feat and went for the bomb. Two seconds. He was a foot away when the timer turned to one. With scant inches between him and Amy, Sonic's heart fell when the device emitted a shrill chime and the clock hit zero.

"Amy!" Sonic screamed.

Amy shrieked.

Amy shrieked.

Amy shrieked and nothing happened.

Nothing happened right up until Sonic's hand swiped Amy's abdomen and she was sent backwards a couple feet. The room was dead-silent except for the creak from Amy's chains and Sonic's shoes as they impacted the floor. Both hedgehogs looked to the place the bomb was. Both were shocked when they saw the bomb warble and wiggle.

Amy gasped, while Sonic blurted out with an insulted tone, "Another hologram!"

"That's right!"

Sonic glanced up in time to see Mirror Master point a hand-held device, not unlike some strange remote-control, at Sonic.

No.

Not at Sonic, but just above Sonic. When he pressed a button, a beam of light crackled forward and went over the teenager's head. Sonic had watched the shot, as though it were meant for him. In a way it was. The beam struck something behind Sonic. He glanced around to see that it was a mirror. The mirror absorbed the shot, vibrated ever so slowly, and then suddenly went blank – though he had looked at his own reflection in it, moments earlier. Sonic did not know what happened exactly, but he felt as though he were pulled toward the mirror. Only too late he realized that the mirror had gained a kind of gravity of its own that overpowered Sonic and pulled him into it. Sonic attempted to avoid the thing, but it was too late. When he tried to put his feet to the floor he already broke contact with the hard surface and felt himself jerked end over end into the air. In moments he was pulled up and into the mirror, feet first. In a final act of desperation, he tried to grab the frame's edge so as to catch himself, but to no avail. He slipped loose after a second's worth of a grip then flew into the depths of the mirror. His hand shot out and he shouted the name of the only person there that would help him, "Amy!"

Amy called back, as she helplessly "reached" towards him with her eyes, "Sonic!"

A split-second later, Sonic was gone. His image, or rather he himself, reappeared a moment after his disappearance. His hands and face were pressed up against the glass. He pounded on the glass, as his lips moved wordlessly. He was trapped inside the mirror. Amy called again, "Sonic!"

Mirror Master chuckled as he walked forward and slid the device into his pocket. "Sorry, Miss Rose," he said without a glance to Amy, "but your dearly beloved's been locked up in a portion of my 'Mirror Dimension' that I cordoned off, just for him." He stopped at Sonic's mirror – a small two-foot by two-foot mirror – then resumed speaking, "Yes, he'll stay there, until I can get him back to Dr. Eggman, who'll be pleased to have 'Hero under Glass,' at dinner, this evening."

"Eggman?" Amy asked, indignantly, "Figures. You seem just like the kind of sleaze he'd hire."

"Sleaze?" Mirror Master returned with mock injury. "Miss, I'll have you know, I prefer to be called a 'Rogue.'"

Amy sniped, "I can think of a lot worse things."

"Ha!" Mirror Master retorted while he took Sonic's mirror under his arm. "Miss, Rose is it? You've been a good sport through all this. So, now that I have whom I wanted, I believe I'll let you go and take my new travelling companion to his new home."

Mirror Master pulled out another remote device that, when activated, released Amy's chains, both the one connected to the ceiling and the one that bound Amy's arms to her sides. She fell to the floor and landed, though a little ungraciously, on her feet; she had to stabilize herself with her hands on the floor. From her knelt down position, Amy glared up at Mirror Master. He simply smiled back, "Well, if looks could kill."

The super-criminal gave a parting smile and a quick wave of his hand "goodbye," then turned to leave. He barely had time enough to react as he heard a wild shriek come from behind him. It was as he swung to his left that he saw a streak of red and yellow that came across his right and missed him by inches. His three-sixty spin ended with a sudden view of a very angry, armed young hedgehog-girl.

Amy spun on her heels, since she had run past Mirror Master in her charge-attack, to face her tormentor, "You free Sonic, right this instant!"

Mirror Master frowned, no longer a "gentlemanly" Rogue, "Well, well. That's new." He, of course, referred to the heavy mallet Amy held that he had not noticed in her possession beforehand or seen anywhere in the fun house up until that point.

"Let Sonic go!" Amy reiterated her demand.

Mirror Master went for his laser pistol, "Sorry, girl, can't do that. Like I said, the good Doctor has made him too much worth my while to just walk away without him."

An arrogant, maybe even malevolent, smile slipped onto Amy's face, "He means a lot to me, too."

Mirror Master smirked in response, the air around the two intensely still.

Amy made the first move with another charge and shout, her hammer raised over her shoulder. Mirror Master countered with a shot from his laser pistol, which caused Amy to duck to one side and ended her frontal assault. Mirror Master spun on his heels to strafe at Amy who continued to run and dodge around the gunman. She finally found cover behind some of the scenery in the room. It was then that Amy decided to properly examine the room under the mindset of fighter in battle.

It was a child-themed room, Amy knew that much. She had already looked the room over several times while she had dangled in its center, in chains. There were large spelling-blocks scattered around the floor: as a matter of fact, she had chosen one for cover. The walls were painted with clowns and circus images, monkeys, elephants, trapeze artists, etc. There also a few other large toy-like and whimsical-themed decorations and props: all of which could come in handy for cover, if only Amy could put them in a proper perspective. It was then that her train of thought was interrupted as she heard Mirror Master's voice call out to her.

"You know, girl, I could just leave, while you're hiding," Mirror Master stated the obvious, "but, you don't seem like the type to take things lying down. I respect that." Amy did not care what he "respected," but let him talk on, as she noticed something across the room from her position and began to sneak amongst the various floor props around the room. "I mean, I was told you have a pretty heavy crush on Sonic, but I didn't think you'd risk your neck like this," he sat the mirror that contained Sonic down on the floor and began to carefully make his way to the various places he assumed Amy could hide behind. "It's kind of sweet, if you ask me. But, hey, I've not had a relationship work out for me in quite a while, mostly one-time flings." Mirror Master jumped around the corner of a large spelling block: nothing. "Yeah," he smirked as he began to move toward another floor prop, "maybe I'm the type that's impressed by someone that committed. You know, jealous and whatnot." He jumped around the corner of a bowling pin: nothing. "Or, maybe, I know that if I turn my back on you, so that I can leave, you'd strike me down with that mallet of yours, eh?" His voice had lost the tone of condescension he had used a few moments earlier, when he talked about Amy's "crush." It was then that he leaped around the corner of a large Teddy Bear: again, nothing. "Yeah, that'd be it; I'd turn my back and you'd drive that mallet right into the back of my legs, shoulders, or head. I guess it depends on how attached you are to the dear boy." Mirror Master gave a little smirk as he made his way to the next prop, "But, it's going to be your downfall, not mine. You should have just left well enough alone. But, if that's what you want, I can lock you up in the mirror, too. Just you and Sonic, maybe forever or maybe for a few hours; depending on what Eggman would do with the two of you. Either way, it'd be for the rest of your lives."

KA-CHUNK!

Mirror Master whirled around and fired at the sound he heard and hit the target right between the eyes.

It was a fatal wound. At least would have been, if the target had been alive. Instead, it was a giant-size Jack-in-the-Box, with Amy's hammer strapped into its hand.

"What? Of all the-"

Mirror Master did not get to finish his statement because he was battered to the ground by Amy who had, indeed, hid behind the giant number eight billiard ball. With a thud and an audible "ouch!" sound Mirror Master collapsed onto the ground, face first, which launched his laser pistol free from his grip and a couple feet out of his reach. He tried to scramble for the weapon, but an acute pressure bore down on the small of his back. It was not sudden, nor painful, but it pinned him to the floor with ease. He glanced over his shoulder to see Amy and _another_ hammer as both immobilized him. Mirror Master was shocked.

"What? How?"

Amy took her turn to be smug, "The hammers? I guess you could say they're just mirror copies." She even smiled. But, the smile vanished with an impatient tone that Amy took to berate Mirror Master, "Okay, you've had your fun and been one big jerk. But, now, it's time you let Sonic out of your stupid mirror-dimension-thing and got out of our sight."

"Oh," Mirror Master sarcastically called up to her, in spite of his predicament, "I actually catch the speedy trouble-maker and you just think I'm going to let him go."

"Yes, yes I do."

"And if I don't?"

Amy placed her foot up on the mallet-head, adding her weight to the cumbersome weapon, "Do you really have to guess?"

Mirror Master struggled under the increased pressure, "All right, all right! Fine."

Amy then leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder and held on tightly, "And no funny business. If you try to trap me in your little mirror, I'll take you with me; one way or another."

Mirror Master snorted as he produced his dimensional gateway activator, "Don't worry. You have to actually stand in front of the mirror for it to suck you into it."

He then pointed the device at the mirror, as it still lay in the center of the room and energized it once again. The mirror glowed and crackled a moment then suddenly a faint sound overtook the dull-snapping sound that resulted from the energy that flowed through it. It was low, and then started to grow in tone and pitch, when suddenly Amy made out the sound of a person yelling. She smiled when she realized that it was Sonic. Without a moment's notice, the mirror spat Sonic back out, as the hero was catapulted out of the mirror, without any control over his spastic tumble. It was only at the last second that he saved face when he stopped his shout of surprise and barely managed to land in an upright position, though he was on his knees. After he adjusted his breathing, Sonic glanced at the small thing that had been his prison and deftly kicked it away with an annoyed look on his face. Sonic then turned to Amy with a smile and a warm appreciation, "Good work, Amy."

She lost control of herself when Amy's little controlled emotions once more threw her into action, though she operated on passion rather than rage, this time. She jumped off of Mirror Master and dragged her hammer across the floor, then let go of it as she ran up to Sonic and embraced him in a tight hug, "Oh Sonic, I was so worried about you!"

Sonic winced at his new entrapment, "Uh, that's okay, Amy. You… you did well, that's all that matters."

Amy let Sonic out of the bear hug, but retained her grip on his shoulders as she pulled herself away to examine him, "You're not hurt or anything, are you? Do you need any medical attention?"

"No, no," Sonic said with embarrassment and annoyance at this unwanted attention. It was then that he noticed Mirror Master, over Amy's shoulder.

The Rogue had gotten on his feet and made to get his laser pistol. Once he re-armed himself that was when Sonic saw him level the gun at him and Amy and prepared to fire. In a last minute shove, Sonic knocked Amy out of the way, as he rolled over to one side to avoid the shot. Once his feet made contact, he launched into a hyper-sprint with the intention to subdue this latest attacker in a more permanent fashion. Sonic's zigzag pattern made it hard for Mirror Master to line up another blast, so he instead thought to defend himself with another gimmick. Just before Sonic reached him, by mere milliseconds, Mirror Master pressed a button on his belt buckle that caused a powerful flash-bulb housed inside to emit a blinding white light that threw Sonic off course and left him unable to follow up on the attack – it even slowed him down. Sonic had run past his target and left his back exposed, while he massaged his eyes to clear out the static that befuddled them. Mirror Master made to take his shot, this time, but Amy interrupted with a toss of another, smaller hammer. The orange-clad assailant snarled at his situation and opted out for a retreat. In an instant he was on the run for the twisted-tunnel and the hall of mirrors beyond.

Amy ran up to Sonic and called out to him, "Sonic! Are you alright?"

Sonic, both in attempt to chase Mirror Master and avoid another hug responded curtly, "Yeah." In another instant he was after this most persistent of opponents. But, before he got far, he snatched up Amy's smaller hammer that still lay on the floor. Amy was left alone and speechless.

Sonic heard the double doors to hall of mirrors as they still swung back and forth with a sweeping noise as they grazed each other. He sent them into a furious pitter-patter rhythm when he zoomed through the doorway.

Once through the doors, Sonic spied Mirror Master, who gave little to no impression that he sought any further escape. Instead, he aimed his mirror-gateway device and blasted the mirror nearest to Sonic. Sonic swung the borrowed hammer into the mirror just as Mirror Master's energy blast impacted it; the glass was shattered before another gateway could be opened. Mirror Master frowned in disappointment and anger when this happened. He made the attempt to shoot at the next mirror, but Sonic had already took off into a rapid sprint and veered from side to side in the narrow corridor and smashed every mirror he came to, before Mirror Master could line up another blast. Sonic was scant feet away, when Mirror Master realized that he would not get another easy chance to entrap the hedgehog, rather the tables had been turned. Struck by this, he jumped into the mirror nearest to him and warped through it.

Sonic came to a halt in front of the mirror, with Mirror Master's image still there, though he was no safe since the mirror was impassible to Sonic. "Had enough?" Sonic asked his latest foe, aware that he had, indeed, won.

"For now," Mirror Master confirmed, but with his own air of self-assurance. Then, he added with a smirk, "You're not off the hook yet, hedgehog."

Sonic rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. How many times have I heard that?" Not up for much more of this, Sonic casually tossed the hammer at the mirror, which then shattered. It was then, with Mirror Master defeated and Amy rescued, that Sonic realized that his day had been long enough. With the proper amount of fast-talking and fleet feet, he would convince Amy of the same thing and he would extricate himself from yet another trap. So, as he calmly walked back to Amy, Sonic managed to put a good spin on his day and a smile on his face.

* * *

**Day 13 – 15:47 – Station Square – Underground, Undisclosed Location**

"Well, gentlemen, I can't help but admit it: watching you fail, though disappointing, has been entertaining in and of itself."

"You know, Doctor, you've been trying our patience all this time. I mean, were we called here to squash your pest and collect a fat reward or to give you a few laughs?"

Eggman and the Rogues sat in the conference room of Eggman's hideaway locale. The desire to endure the Doctor's chore had faded significantly, even more so as the Rogues began to tire of Eggman's withholding of critical information in their separate engagements against Sonic and his friends. This was a sentiment roundly shared by the criminal trio.

"You didn't say anything about the fox's ability to fly," Trickster bluntly pointed out.

"Nor anything about that girl's magical hammers," Mirror Master sharply chimed in, more angered than Trickster was.

"It seems to me," Cold stated, as he sat with his arms crossed on the conference table, "that you're not doing much of anything for the man that's supposed to want Sonic dealt with. You've given us only bare information and, if I'm not mistaken, no help. Oh, sure, one robot for Mirror Master's plan was nice. But, really? You've almost got more gadgets and gizmos than the entire Rogues Gallery, put together. Why aren't you doing more to get rid of _your_ hedgehog headache?"

Eggman stroked his mustache a moment in thought and glanced at the ceiling even longer. Finally, he spoke up, "Trickster, if I told you that a fox _could_ fly, would you believe me?"

Trickster scratched the back of his head rather than speak, his response was obvious.

Eggman chuckled, "And you Mirror Master? Even if you can enter and exit your little "mirror dimension" at will, would you believe me if I told you about Amy and her little hammers?"

"I'm still shocked," Mirror Master snipped with more anger than genuine astonishment.

"Ho-ho-ho! Exactly! If I had said anything about my enemies' abilities, you'd all be thinking I'm crazy. After all, when you seemed so quick to dismiss Sonic, himself, I knew you wouldn't listen to a nice little lesson in learning how to deal with him or his friends. But, experience is a good teacher. And, now, since you've all had your tails put between your legs, I think you old dogs are ready to learn the new tricks you'll need to take down Sonic, Tails, and Amy."

"Meaning?" Captain Cold asked.

"Meaning," Eggman smiled broadly, "it's time we all got together and put Sonic and his friends down, permanently. Gentlemen! It's time to prepare for tomorrow." With that he broke out into another, longer fit of laughter.

Eggman's good humor was infectious, Trickster laughed heartily, while Mirror Master chuckled meanly, and Captain Cold smirked as if to say, "Now you're talking." But, the smirk said it for him.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_**Sonic the Hedgehog**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to the Sega Corporation.**

_**The Flash**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted to DC Comics.**


	6. Rogues Attack

**Day 14 – 13:37 – Station Square – Downtown Area**

THE city bustled and buzzed with its usual noises. Though, most of the citizenry were of a subdued mindset as they went about their daily activities. Dr. Eggman had not been seen for two weeks, yet the recent criminal activities that rippled in the news were enough to raise suspicions of his presence, in one form or other. The fact that Sonic the Hedgehog had been central to these phenomena reinforced this. The average Station Square resident knew anything that involved Sonic usually brought Eggman as a consequence and vice-versa. Some "socially conscious" citizens debated the merit of a super-fast anthropomorphic hedgehog and his crew of super-powered, super-intelligent, and other such "unique" friends and their destructive conflicts with a mad technocrat. The logic was that the hedgehog led to the Eggman, therefore the city might be better off without the former. However, the general consensus of the silent majority was that the latter caused the former to react in the name of justice, like any policeman or soldier that tried to defend the city – or even a citizen defending hearth and home, for that matter. So, the grumblings of a few were just that.

Sonic, Tails, and Amy did not have the bickering of others in mind, as they sat at a street-side café. They had finished a lunch and were in deep discussion about the goings-on of the past week.

Amy daintily sipped from a steamy tea-cup then turned to Tails, "So, you think that Eggman might have hired more goons to come after us?"

Tails responded as he reached for his glass of milk, "Uh-huh. It never fails: Eggman always has more tricks up his sleeve. We all know that. The thing is that there's no telling how many he's hired. It may have been three or thirty." He drank deeply of the milk as he finished the statement.

"So? What, we're supposed to be on alert _all_ the time or something?"

Tails chuckled as he wiped the thin trail of milk from his upper lip, "Well, it's not like we're not always concerned about when Eggman's going to strike again. It's just that we have to be a little more careful. After all, Captain Cold set up a jewelry store robbery just to attract Sonic. Trickster ambushed us in broad daylight at a public park. Then, this Mirror Master guy actually attacks you in a dressing room and trapped Sonic in a mirror. Like I said: careful."

Amy frowned a little, "What does 'careful' mean? That we'll have to use disguises? Or go into hiding?" After a moment of reflection, she smiled a little then turned to Sonic who sat across from her, "Of course, being cooped up in a safe house, together, wouldn't be _too_ bad."

Sonic, who had been silent up until then cleared his throat a little, then took his glass of water and gulped it down speedily. Finally, he said, "I don't think that'll be necessary. You know Eggman, once he gets his mind on something, he doesn't like to let up until he gets what he wants." He laughed a little with a wink to both his friends, "Or, we send him packing."

Tails and Amy responded with smiles to their leader's confidence, the same determination and _savoir-faire_ that saw them through all their troubles, both when with him or without him in times of trouble. Their trust in each other was what made them friends and what helped them to battle Eggman.

* * *

**Day 14 – 13:47 – Station Square – Nearby Rooftop**

EGGMAN grunted at his enemies' disparaging conversation. As he sat in his Eggmobile, the Doctor wore his goggles down over his eyes, which gave him a telescopic view of Sonic and company at the café. His hovercraft's built in supersonic ear provided him the benefit of eavesdropping, as well. Next to him were his hired helpers.

Mirror Master held a compact mirror that granted him a ringside seat next to Sonic and his friends, via the reflective surface of the café's main window. With a snicker, he commented, "Well, Doctor, it seems that the hedgehog's got you figured out."

Trickster, with his magnifier-kaleidoscope agreed in the form of low giggles.

Captain Cold, who used traditional binoculars to spy on their collective targets, lowered his viewing device and smirked to Eggman, "You know: if that were me, I wouldn't take that kind of talk lying down."

Eggman harrumphed, "Well, it's a good thing that I'm not you, because I'm not even going to take it standing. If anything," he sneered as he pulled back his goggles, "I'm going to make sure that it's Sonic that lies down. Permanently," Eggman turned to the Rogues, "Are you three ready?"

The trio faced Eggman and nodded. Eggman smiled at them, then turned and sneered at his foes, "Let's begin."

* * *

**Day 14 – 13:58 – Station Square – Street Level**

TAILS had just finished an interesting joke that had Sonic and Amy in a good laugh along with their twin-tailed companion. It was a good day.

CRASH!!

The small metal cafe table was crunched underneath an icicle that split it in two and sent the teacup and milk and water glasses into the air, with their contents tossed into the wind. The heroic hedgehogs and fox were forced to scramble out of their seats. It _was_ a good day.

"Look out!" a waiter shouted as a lethal hailstorm plummeted into the café and its adjacent section of sidewalk. Men, women, and children scrambled for cover or simply fled as their afternoons were also ruined. Fortunately, none of them were targets, as the aimed projectiles were meant to scatter everyone who was not in the planned fight.

Amidst the screams of the civilians that cleared out, Sonic called out to Tails, "Where are those things coming from?"

Tails had already gone airborne to survey the situation above the heads of the humans that dwarfed him, "Up there, on top of that building!"

"Thanks, Tails," Sonic returned as he leaped up from his hiding place behind a small concrete flowerbed that separated the sidewalk proper from the café's open air dining area. Once up on his feet, Sonic raced toward the building full-tilt, with a plan to deal with Captain Cold – it was too obvious for it not to be him. Sonic reached the building's base in seconds then dashed straight up its vertical face; a little thing like gravity would have to be ignored. That was when he was confounded to see Trickster literally drop out of the sky. He did not know what shocked him more: to see Trickster, or to see Trickster free-fall toward him, atop a pogo-stick. The momentary surprise was enough for Trickster's pogo stick to collide with Sonic's chest and sent the sprinter-hedgehog back to the street in a tumble. Never one to give up Sonic used his redirected momentum to touch off from the building and began to run back down it. He saw Trickster had already reached the street and made his way toward Tails and Amy. The icicles had stopped, so it seemed like Trickster was the greater threat at the moment.

"Well, well," Trickster declared as his pogo-stick landed a few feet from Tails, whereupon he dismounted with a broad grin. "If it isn't my little assistant, again; up for another performance?"

"No way," Tails spat from overhead.

While still airborne Tails cocked back a fist and zoomed downwards at the caped villain. Trickster saw this and easily sidestepped the attack as Tails came toward him and swung for a punch. Trickster dodged Tails and let him swipe at his cape, which Trickster pulled with the flourish of a matador. "Ole!" Tails pulled out of his dive and turned to either attack or defend, once he saw what the situation called for. What he saw was Trickster and his pogo-stick, which he shouldered like a rifle. With a wild grin, the renegade circus performer pulled a hidden trigger that caused the bottom of the pogo-stick to explode in a muzzle-flash and sent a bolos-rope in Tails's direction. Unlike Trickster, Tails did not have the benefit of a beforehand notice, which meant that the bolos caught him perfectly. Fortunately for Tails, the bolos only ensnared his upper torso and arms. Tails's rotor-blade appendages were unimpeded by the restraints. In order to escape his predicament Tails fought back the only way he could: aero-maneuvering.

"Ha-ha! Now this is what I call _fly_-fishing," Trickster laughed as he wrestled with his pogo-fishing-rod.

Tails struggled and grunted against the cable's tension, with Trickster's weight and leverage and his self-propulsion evenly matched. It was true that he could lift Sonic, but that was when Sonic wanted to be carried, not to mention Sonic was half the weight of an average human. Tails was painfully reminded of these facts as he struggled against this un-average man.

SNAP!

Trickster flew backwards with a "Whoa!" when his cable was split in twain by a blue streak. Tails, likewise, was propelled further into the air when the cable was cut. Fortunately for the latter, the slack in the cable allowed the bolos enough freedom of movement so that the fox-boy could shrug them off. Both looked to see Sonic, as he slid like a baseball-player along the ground, and both realized that he was about ready to come back for another shot at Trickster. Or at least, he would have been.

A laser shot blackened the ground a few inches in front of Sonic's face, in his slider position. The shot came from Mirror Master's pistol, as he leaned out of the darkened café window. He completely revealed himself with a determined grin on his face and his blaster aimed at Sonic. "Now," he said, "where were we?"

Sonic smirked, "I think I remember." Trickster and Tails were left to their own devices as Sonic looked to take care of Mirror Master.

Trickster smiled at Tails for a moment, when, suddenly, a pair of rapid-paced feet got his attention. He heard the sound of someone as they ran up behind him, though Trickster knew that the clip-clop sound did not match Sonic's frenetic pitter-pattern. True enough, what he saw was a smaller, pinker, more female hedgehog.

…With a very large hammer.

Amy shouted as she approached her target, "I'll teach you to mess with us!" Suddenly, Trickster's priorities changed.

Tails was unsure of how to react to this situation. That was why he did not launch an aerial attack on Trickster, while Amy had his full attention. Once he got over his initial stupefaction, he began to do just that until a pillar of ice grew up in front of him. He looked up to where the blast of ice came from and saw the Rogue Sonic called "Captain Cold" as he rode down on Eggman's Eggmobile; he held to the side of the craft with one hand, while he lined up another shot with his cold gun in the other.

"Not so fast, kid," Cold declared, "Trickster's already got a dance partner. How's about _we_ do a little tango?"

"Fine by me," Tails defiantly responded and flew to attack Cold as Eggman steered his craft toward the fox.

What ensued was an intense game of "chicken" that saw Tails and Eggman on a collision course, while Cold fired off shots from his cold gun – all of which Tails managed to dodge expertly. At the last minute, before they could collide, Cold dropped off from Eggman's craft, since they had reached a safe enough altitude. Since Cold was the one he had went after, Tails had already been off-center to Eggman's hovercraft, so it was easy for him to completely veer off from Eggman, while Eggman did likewise vis-à-vis Tails.

Cold had, meanwhile, landed on the ground with a small tuck and roll along the surface. He then fired off another shot from his cold gun, while he reached for the other with his free hand. Within the space it took for his reflexes to act, Cold soon dual-wielded both cold guns at Tails who glanced over his shoulder a second too late and received a blast to his rotary appendages. It was a glancing blow, but just enough to freeze the base of his tails and backside together. He lost altitude, but maintained enough lift to land safely on a sidewalk, away from Cold and his guns. Though, he was very alert for his opponent's actions as the cold and chill literally rolled up his spine from the layer of ice on his bottom. For safety, he ducked behind a parked car. Cold, who did not want a repeat of the events in the jewelry store decided to pour on his ranged attacks, thick and fast. He began to fire off icicles again, with quick-draw-gunslinger rhythms. The frozen bullets pelted the car and began to reduce it to frozen Swiss cheese as the windows were shot out right away, the passenger side door became an icy pin-cushion and the passenger side tires were blown out. For Tails, on the driver side of the car, it was a monstrous cacophony.

Amy, for her part, had better luck with Trickster. While he used a variety of absurd tactics and, of course, tricks, she managed to dodge and even parry a few attacks with her hammer. He tried razor sharp jacks, an acid-spewing seltzer-bottle and an exploding whoopee cushion. Amy even had to dodge a yo-yo with spring-loaded razor blades. This was harder to do. The jacks simply whizzed by her, without a second thought. But, in the case of the booby-trapped yo-yo, when this weapon recoiled on its tether, it would come with equally lethal force back at her from behind. Occasionally, she tried to deflect the weapon with her hammer by way of a "bunt" maneuver. Unfortunately, the blades would retract and the tether would return the device to Trickster's hand. Finally, she resolved to disarm Trickster of this persistently offensive device. When Trickster made another attempt to "walk the dog" across Amy's face, she let the projectile pass by unimpeded. But, when Trickster tried to recall the device once again, Amy threw up the handle of her hammer in its path. True to form, even with the blades fully extended, the yo-yo snagged onto the hammer handle, just below the head, and wrapped its cord around the handle until it was effectively tied. It was then that Amy used both hands to pull the hammer as hard as she could to either rip the device from Trickster's hand or fling him to the ground.

Trickster, for his part, realized that he was in a literal bind. But, rather than despair, he matched the determined look that came onto Amy's face with a sly grin. He activated his anti-gravity acrobat's shoes and used their propulsion to combat Amy's impressive, though not surprising, strength.

Amy was far from ready to surrender the "tug of wills." Amy's desire to win manifested itself physically in her hammer's handle when it elongated further and reached down to the ground. Once she had something to lean the hammer against, Amy wrapped her hands around the upper part of the handle, just below the dangerous yo-yo blades, and threw her weight, muscle, and knowledge of leverage into a triple-effort against Trickster. With a strained smile back at Trickster, she realized that, ever so slightly, the situation was turned to her advantage. Trickster saw this, as well.

"Fine," he grunted with a frown, "you want it? You can have it!"

Amy squealed in shock as Trickster simply released the yo-yo and all of her labors came back upon her. With all of her momentum, weight, and muscle set in one direction, there was little she could do to prevent the rest of her from following. She crumpled in a heap with her hammer next to her and an annoyed look on her face. The situation was embarrassment incarnate. When Trickster laughed heartily at Amy's fumble, the girl scrambled back to her feet, with her shortened hammer and refreshed vigor. Trickster's laughter stopped and his efforts to dodge Amy began.

Sonic zoomed toward Mirror Master and dodged his laser blasts until finally he got close enough to do something he had wanted to do to a Rogue from the first day he learned what they were: delivered a strong punch right to the chin. Mirror Master flew backwards from the solid blow and landed on his back, addled from the experience. Sonic stood over him with a smirk. It was then that Sonic noticed Eggman, who had remained uninvolved in the whole affair.

"Come on, Eggman," Sonic jeered, "doomsday machines, killer robots, and copycat hedgehogs aren't good enough to beat me and my friends. What made you think these guys would be enough?"

An intense energy pulse jarred Sonic off his feet with a direct blow to his side. The hedgehog tumbled to the ground and glanced over his shoulder at Mirror Master. Fortunately for Sonic, it had been a stun-blast and not a lethal shot. Still, it did not help that his right arm had gone numb.

The mirror-themed villain rubbed his chin and spat at Sonic, "You call that a punch? Flash hits a lot harder."

"You were saying, Sonic?" Eggman ribbed his foe.

Sonic did not respond, instead he hopped up into a sprinter's position and took off on a hot run; away from Mirror Master. At this, the human laughed, "Ha! Look at that! Sonic's already thrown in the towel." Mirror Master then turned to take aim at Amy, who had Trickster on a literal run. The clownish fellow had taken to the top of a car for refuge, but Amy had none of it and had set about the systematic destruction and flattening of the car, to reach Trickster who tried to defend himself with the occasional dirty trick, only to have an enraged Amy duck and dodge it. Amy did not see Mirror Master as he lined up his shot, "Too bad for her."

WHAM!

Sonic tackled Mirror Master from behind and brought the man down face first into the sidewalk. When his laser pistol flew from his grasp, Mirror Master tried to reach for it. But, this only exposed his arm to Sonic's grasp as he grabbed the former's arm and pinned it behind his back. With a grunt and snarl, Mirror Master attempted to free himself.

Sonic leaned down to where Mirror Master could see his face and smiled, "Sorry about that punch earlier. See, I was holding back. Normally, I smash through robotic armor and weaponry; didn't want to hurt you _too badly_, after all." He then winked, which caused Mirror Master to grunt and snarl and struggle even more.

At that moment, Amy had finished the demolition of the car that Trickster had used as "high ground." "Had enough?" she demanded of the festive felon as he retreated with fear on his face.

Trickster dropped to one knee and threw up his hands, "Yes! Yes, I surrender, O Mistress of the Mallet!"

Amy smiled, her hammer slung over her shoulder, "Smart move."

"Why, it'd take a fool not to see what kind of incredible warrior you are," Trickster declared with a grateful smile on his face. "Cute, too, young lady," he added with a wink.

Amy beamed and turned to Sonic, "See? He appreciates me, Sonic! And he's one of the bad guys." Sonic merely rolled his eyes.

"Bad guy?" Trickster asked with hurt in his voice. "Why, Miss Rose, I can show you I'm just as good as the next person." With that, Trickster reached into his cape and pulled out a small item, then turned back to Amy, "Here," he said with a toss.

Amy caught the item with her open hand and looked quizzically into her newly occupied palm. When she turned it around, she saw that it was a very handsome Sonic the Hedgehog stuffed plush doll. Amy's features melted out of affection. "Aw…" she mumbled dreamily. She spun around and held the doll up so that Sonic could see it, "Look Sonic: it's you! Isn't it _cute_?"

Sonic's rapid-fire memory surged forward and Sonic's features went from mild annoyance to extreme concern, "Amy! No!"

The doll "beep-beeped" in rapid succession, Amy's smile was replaced with confusion and suddenly the doll burst into a bright light and fierce explosion. Amy was propelled backwards by the blast and knocked to the ground. The charge used in Trickster's latest explosive decoy had been more powerful than the one used against Sonic, since the results had been less than effective. So, when Amy hit the ground, she did not clutch at her head or writhe in agony whatsoever. But, it was still far from lethal. Instead, Amy dropped her hammer and passed out; the hammer disappeared with Amy's consciousness. Trickster smirked at his handiwork.

Sonic panicked, "Amy!"

That was all the room that Mirror Master needed. With his arm freed up a little, he swung his elbow up into Sonic's jaw and sent the blue fighter off his back. At that same moment, Trickster dashed over to Amy and scooped her up. Mirror Master had rearmed himself, as well. Sonic looked up from a sitting position, as he rubbed his sore face and saw that he had a predicament on his hands, in spades.

The car had splintered and twisted into horrendous shapes by this point. Tails covered his ears as he tried to think straight amongst the screeches and other noises that the car made like death moans. Captain Cold's ice attack rendered this increasingly difficult. Tails hated when the pressure was on. He had been around Sonic enough to know that there was a time for thinking and a time for acting. At that moment, he needed action more than anything. But, his more analytical side had yet to formulate a plan. It was because of this that he had occasionally locked up in a fight. He needed more time. He needed something, anything. An icicle pierced the driver side door just over his shoulder, which caused Tails to shout in panic. He needed something and he needed it _quickly_.

Captain Cold thoroughly enjoyed his little shooting gallery. The car that Tails hid behind was the only one on that side of the street and it was simply a matter of time until the icicles he used would turn it into an indefensible scrap heap. He figured it might last another minute. To some extent, he wished that his flame-throwing fellow Rogue Heat Wave were on hand, that way he could have pierced the gas tank and something "faster" could have been accomplished from there. Still, the windows were completely shattered, the tires all exploded, the passenger side doors were caved in and filled with holes that would soon be big enough for further shots to demolish the driver side doors. It would not be long…

Suddenly, on his right, Cold caught sight of a hubcap that whistled over the car and a small orange-yellow head as it ducked back behind the automobile. He smirked and pointed his guns at the hubcap as it lazily veered toward him, "Nice try, kid, but it'll take more than that." A full-blast shot hit the hubcap, sent it back toward the other side of the street and encased it an ice-block that soon slammed it into and cemented itself to the wall of a building behind the parked, damaged, car. Then, there came another hubcap. Cold almost felt like laughing, but instead hopped up on his feet and leveled both barrels of his guns on the flying saucer. Just before it came close to him, he sent it away inside an ice block identical to the one that he made earlier. Pleased with his spot-on shooting skills, Cold turned his attention back to the car, once again. However, this time, he was nearly flabbergasted by what he saw next. Tails ran across the street, out in the open, completely defenseless; he was simply in the middle of a sprint and headed straight for Cold. The hardened felon could not believe such a rookie maneuver: a frontal-assault against an opponent armed with long-distance weapons. Cold's hands dropped to his side, in amusement. But, with Tails still some distance away, he quickly raised up one arm, sighted the fox – who did not seem to offer a change in course or the least bit of a flinch – and simply said, "Stupid, kid."

KA-BOOM!

Everyone in its vicinity had their attention turned to the car as it exploded in a fireball and quickly became a smoldering wreck. Except, of course, for Tails; he knew the car would explode. It was he, after all, who used the hubcap distraction as a window of opportunity to tear a long strip of upholstery from the car's interior. It was he who had activated the car's lighter so as to ignite the strip, after he placed one end inside the gas tank and left the other end to dangle out as a "fuse." It was a long shot, but it worked. It worked so well and Tails was so proud of himself that he almost wanted to offer Cold an explanation for how he pulled it off. Instead, he offered Cold his two feet as he jumped into a high-flying kick and planted both feet in the man's sternum. The sheer audacity of all this had proven that Tails had spent quite a bit of time around Sonic, thankfully.

Cold reeled back on his feet, lost his balance and fell flat on his back, momentarily stunned. Both of the lead Rogue's cold guns flew from his grasp as he impacted with the asphalt. One dropped to his side, while the other bounced a couple feet away. After he reoriented himself, Cold reached for his closest gun, only to see Tails's small foot stamp down on his wrist and the object of his attempts scooped up into the boy's hands. Though the youth clumsily clasped the weapon in both his hands, since his pre-adolescent's hands had to make up for an adult's one, Tails wielded the weapon effectively and pointed it directly at Cold. The humor of the pun escaped both fox and human when the former shouted, "Freeze!"

Cold's face shifted into a slight, bewildered smile, "Now, that. That was pretty impressive, kid." Tails kept the gun focused on Cold, but returned with a more vigorous – albeit winded – smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Trickster's snide voice called over, nearer to the café. "But, I do believe the little action hero forgot one thing." Tails glanced at Trickster, while his foot stayed on Cold's wrist and the cold gun was aimed back at its original owner. He did not like what he saw: Trickster, with Amy hugged up to his body in one arm… and a rubber chicken in his free hand. Trickster then resumed his commentary, in a simple, matter-of-fact, dead-pan fashion, "I've got a hostage."

Tails was flummoxed one moment then horrified the next when Trickster squeezed the rubber chicken's neck and a large switch-blade popped up out of its mouth. Still, he set his jaw in a determined scowl and countered, "Okay. You've got Amy. I've got Cold. Want to trade?" Tails glanced back at his bargaining chip for a split-second. Cold at least gave the impression that he was not about to make a move, himself. There was no tension in the muscles of the arm that Tails still had pinned beneath his sneaker.

"Trade?" Trickster retorted, "By the look of it, I've got two to your one." With a toss of his head over his shoulder he motioned toward Mirror Master and Sonic. Sonic was still in a sitting position, with Mirror Master over him, his laser pistols in hand.

"Give it up, kid," Cold offered his advice, "the exploding car aside, you've been beat by superior strategy this time."

Tails's shoulders slumped, in saddened defeat.

Cold spoke up as he carefully raised his free hand up, "Sorry, kid, that's just how this all played out. You put up a great fight. Now, I'll take that back, if you don't mind."

With a sigh, Tails quietly passed the cold gun back to the Captain. He then stepped aside and let the man get to his feet. Cold, on his feet, pointed the gun at Tails and marched him forward, his hands interlocked behind his head.

"Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!" Eggman clapped his hands in delight as his Eggmobile lazily drifted toward the scene, "Excellent. Excellent! You've done a wonderful job, gentlemen. Now, if you'll just gather them all up, I'll deal with them, myself, and then you can-"

Eggman's statement was left unfinished when Tails, as he passed Trickster, kicked Captain Cold in the shin with the heel of his shoe. As Cold yelped and stumbled back in surprised pain, Tails then shoulder-butted Trickster in the hip and caused the unsuspecting Rouge to fumble his rubber chicken knife, though he tightly gripped Amy. With an incredibly small opening made in the disastrous situation, Tails pulled at an object tucked away in the wrist of his glove. Before anyone could react to stop him, the fox pulled back his arm and threw the object with a basic baseball pitch. Just before Cold could restrain him from behind, Tails cried out, "Sonic! Catch!"

Eggman saw it as it soared through the air. It was a small, golden object that glinted in the afternoon sun. It was like a discus, which helped it glide through the air, but minus a center. It was a ring. But, not just any simple band, it was, "A power ring!! Get it, you fools! Don't let Sonic touch it!"

By default, Captain Cold and Trickster were already outside the ring's path and unable to intercept it. This left Mirror Master as the only person between Sonic and the ring. Mirror Master, who kept his eyes on Sonic only chanced a fleeting look over his shoulder to see what all the consternation was about. It was an unfortunate position that the universe had conspired against him in order to set up his immediate downfall. He knew he shouldn't have looked simply because he knew that one should _**never**_ take their eyes off of a speedster – regardless of their age, species, sex, etc. However, he also knew that not to _see_ what was going wrong would have been just as disastrous. It was, indeed, a no-win situation; at least for him.

For Sonic, everything, if he managed to capitalize on the turn of events, was set for a resounding victory. First, there was Mirror Master. Rather than engage him, Sonic deftly grabbed at his belt while his head was turned and pulled himself up the man's body, using every possible foothold to propel himself up and over the taller mammal who lost equilibrium and fell on his side. Once in air, Sonic made a grab for the ring.

"Stop him! Stop him!!" Eggman shrieked.

Captain Cold, not to be one to let a prisoner get in his way, violently shoved Tails out of the line of fire – there was no time for gentility – and aimed at Sonic. He squeezed the trigger and let fly with his trademark intense cold and ice. Sonic was inches from the ring when he saw the white beam thrust upwards at him. With determination in his every fiber, Sonic stretched his arm even further and shouted with a roar of defiance. A moment later, the cold beam struck the hedgehog and spread a thick crust of frost across his entire body. With a thud, the rigid body struck the ground, Sonic's mid-air pose locked into place.

Cold grinned wickedly, "Got him."

Suddenly, the ice-statue's right hand crackled and hissed as steam wafted into the air; a bright yellow light could be seen emanating from it.

"You idiot!" the Eggman bellowed, "You got him _too late_!!"

A power ring is everything that its name implies. Though they sometimes occur in nature, often they are man-made objects. Or, rather, fox-made, since Tails had become quite the ring-smith in his years of knowing Sonic. They were wonderful items, actually, that left little pollution, which led to Tails using them in almost all of his major vehicles, including his _Tornado_-class biplanes, and various weapons systems. However, the most fascinating item of interest was the fact that a power ring could be used not by mechanical devices alone, but by certain biological organisms as well. Tails had never made such use of a power ring, nor had many of the people that he and Sonic knew. Hedgehogs, by and large were the most compatible ring users, at least that was Tails's theory. Amy may actually carry two power rings on her person at all times: her bracelets. But, Tails was never sure and he never bothered to ask or scan Amy; largely because it went against his personal code to take anything without permission, including energy signatures and readings. Shadow, another hedgehog, never really used them ever, nor was Tails as close to him as he was to Sonic. So, even though Tails could make rings, he could never fully grasp their properties, beyond basic mechanics. Yet, this was a good thing, since he was able to use this basic mechanical knowledge to create power rings that specifically reacted with Sonic's personal life-force energy signature or "aura" as he dubbed it. That aura and the ring that Tails had tossed moments before were, at that moment reacting and quickly overcoming Captain Cold's ice barrier.

In moments, the encapsulating ice was shattered by the explosion of intermingled energies within Sonic and the power ring. Sonic emerged from the blast of ice and light and somersaulted backwards onto his feet. Faint whispers of electricity bounced between the spikes on his back and between his ears. When Sonic's eyes tightened with righteous fury, they offered the intimidating appearance of lightning that played across their corners. Sonic smirked at Cold and Trickster, who were now side by side, with Amy still clutched up in Trickster's arms.

"Aw jeez," Trickster sighed with annoyance adding a bizarre flavor to his despondent tone, "now don't _that_ look familiar?"

Cold remained silent and quickly fired off another shot from his only cold gun. It was futile as Sonic side-stepped it and launched himself with even more breath-taking speed than he previously demonstrated earlier directly at Cold. He made a valiant effort to fire again, but before he knew what was coming off, he found his cold gun knocked out of his hand and a small, but powerful fist had come into contact with the underside of his chin. Cold was fortunate that Sonic, whose power ring-boosted punch could have completely dislodge the head of any Eggman robot, was the type to take living beings prisoner. So, instead, he was merely rendered unconscious.

Trickster turned to face Sonic and blurted out, "Hey-" but that was as far as he got. With a high-flying spin kick Sonic clipped the side of his head and sent him reeling. The blow only glanced off Trickster and left him stunned, but awake. Amy fell out of his arms as he went backwards onto the pavement, but she never touched the ground as lightning quick reflexes allowed Sonic to grab her, scoop up Tails from off the street, and bolt around a nearby street corner to drop them both off and rocket back to the battlefield.

Mirror Master had a few moments to prepare and he made the effort to launch a couple handfuls of mirrors in Sonic's path, but it was not successful in the least as Sonic was up and over each and every one with a mighty leap. Time seemed to freeze as Mirror Master took advantage of Sonic's mid-air position and reached for his laser pistol again – as long as Sonic was off the ground, he would lose momentum until gravity caught up with him. Mirror Master pulled the trigger and a bolt shot straight for Sonic. Sonic flashed another quick smirk as he silently doubled over and curled into a ball, while his forward momentum began to build up as he approached his target. Sonic concentrated the ring's borrowed energies into a temporary force-field that deflected Mirror Master's shot. Mirror Master even managed to squeeze out two more impotent shots that were soon deflected and Sonic hurtled into him with a high-speed homing attack. Again, had Sonic not "pulled his punch," Mirror Master would have left the mortal plane. To some extent he wished he had, since the impact hit his exposed torso and knocked all the wind out of him and left him gasping and coughing for air to refill his emptied respiratory system. The third Rouge was just as addled and incapacitated as the first two.

Eggman snarled at the situation and hurled vehemence at his long-time opponent, "Curse you, Sonic!" With a growl of frustration, he quickly flipped switches and pressed buttons on his Eggmobile console, "Useless thugs! I guess I'll have to finish this, myself!"

"Are you sure about that?" Sonic quipped, "Shouldn't you just quit while you're ahead?"

Eggman simply growled as missile pods and twin laser cannons emerged from the Eggmobile's hull. A small monitor showed Sonic with a large targeting scope locked onto him, which then beeped when all systems had been focused in Sonic's direction. With a mean-spirited smile, he squeezed the twin triggers on the control stick. A barrage of death was hurled in Sonic's direction.

The seemingly reckless teen smiled broadly and chuckled as he quickly side-stepped the long train of laser blasts that slammed into the spot he formerly occupied. He then leaped into the air and landed on the nearest place to plant his feet: one of Eggman's miniature missiles. The force of his landing destabilized the rocket's servos and sent it into the ground below. Sonic's belief that he could deflect the missiles away from the Rogues was well founded as the first demonstration proved successful. Then, one by one, with his increased speed he hop-scotched his way up stream of rockets; literally. Sonic hit one missile, with his left foot, another with his right, another with both and repeated the cycle. He laughed along the way, as well. On the last one, though, Sonic gripped the nose-cone of the missile in his hand and used all of his weight and agility to twist the missile end over end and send it back toward Eggman.

Eggman attempted to dodge his own ordnance and managed, in a panic, to pull the Eggmobile upwards and out of the weapon's path, but was out of luck when the device's fuel consumption had triggered its fuse and soon detonated. Eggman's upward momentum was boosted by the blast and his craft was sent into a wide, lazy arc over the city skyline – screaming all the way. He was soon gone from sight entirely.

Sonic was not that far from the ground, so, when he fell, he simply tucked and rolled and came to a stop near to the café and the Rogues. Captain Cold had regained consciousness and had staggered to his feet, while Trickster still massaged his jaw in a sitting position. Mirror Master wheezed as he stood propped up against the café's wall. When Sonic touched down, all of the Rogues locked eyes with him. Sonic, for his part stared them all down. Lightning still flickered in his eyes. The Rogues then exchanged knowing glances.

Suddenly, Trickster and Captain Cold scrambled over and into one of Mirror Master's compact mirrors. Sonic shot Mirror Master a harsh glance, which caused the human to hobble over and into the café window's reflective surface. Sonic was then left completely alone in the city street. He then sighed tiredly as he opened his hand and watched as the power ring's physical structure broke down and it dissolved into a golden dust: in the same way firewood reduces to ash. With it went the last of Sonic's supercharge and his tiredness and the lack of fresh adrenaline caused him to slump slightly. Still, he smiled at a job well done. But, there was still Tails and Amy.

"Thanks for that ring, Tails," Sonic said as he zipped around the corner and found Tails, who had managed to get Amy revived.

"You're welcome, Sonic. Besides, you saved us, so it's us who should be-"

"Sonic!" Amy burst out in joyous smiles as she jumped up from her sitting position against a wall and clasped Sonic around the neck, "My hero! You did it, again!"

Sonic sighed as he resigned himself to Amy's aggressive passions; he had fought enough for one day, he felt. He smiled over at Tails who chuckled at the situation. The two boys then exchanged a high-five hand-clasp. Everyone was pleased with the day's happy end and expressed it in their individual ways.

* * *

_**Sonic the Hedgehog**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by the SEGA Corporation.**

_**The Flash**_** and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by DC Comics.**


	7. Aftermath

**Day 14 – 17:35 – Station Square – Undisclosed Location**

SLOWLY he clopped his feet across the floor, head down with a sullen rage that dwelled in his gut. He waved off his mechanized servants when any of them came forward to offer supper or a change of clothes or a shower. He was not in the mood. Sulking: that was the answer. It always was. He knew better than that, of course, but it would not make him feel better.

He slumped into his seat wordlessly; television.

No West Coast feeds, no Central feeds; they were not far enough away from his humiliation and aggravation. He sighed as an East Coast feed came up and went limp in his chair as news from the other end of a continent was brought to him via Internet hacking. Well, actually it was more a news bulletin, one of those little tidbits of news "so big" that it could not wait for the standardized news program, later that day or night.

Police and journalists were huddled around in a confused and irritated mass as three men- No, correction. Two men and _a woman_ were escorted into the backs of separate SWAT trucks as photographers and cameramen squeezed up against the crowd of police – SWAT and beat cops – as they jockeyed for the best angles. What a bizarre collection they were. The men and woman, that is. One man was exceptionally tall and thin, garbed up in black tattered clothes; rags they seemed to be. Over his face there was a roughly made burlap sack mask, complete with straw hair and a tall conical hat. The other man was the converse to the first, short and stocky with more colorful clothes. They were roughly made, but still more colorful. Actually, they were a multi-colored patchwork that had little to no sense about them. He even wore a top hat that seemed a size or two far bigger than he actually needed. He seemed very irritable. Lastly, there was the woman, just as strange – if not stranger – than the two men, though much more appealing to the eye. She was very beautiful, with well-rounded features, all of them. She had tussled and rough red hair. And green skin. Dressed more provocatively than the men, this woman seemed to be only covered in vegetation, plants and flowers, some of which grew up and into her hair. That is, of course, if one genuinely believed that the plants were real and still, indeed, growing.

It was at this point that the image of the three arrestees was shrunken down and pulled back, so as to make room for a news anchor in whichever studio that camera reported for. "That was the scene today as police brought in known felons Jonathan Crane, Jervis Tetch, and Pamela Isley; better known as the 'Scarecrow,' the 'Mad Hatter' and 'Poison Ivy,' respectively. It is believed that the masked vigilante, the Batman, was…"

A deep growl came into his throat as Eggman suddenly leaped to his feet, reached under the console of his computer terminal, grabbed a laser blaster, pointed it at the screen and violently pulled the "off switch" on his "remote control." With the pull of a trigger and a scream, Eggman forever silenced the broadcast that he had been receiving. As the remains of the monitor hissed and crackled, Eggman's roar crested and ebbed away into labored grunting and breathing. He let the weapon slip from his grasp as he suddenly announced, "I'm taking a bath."

As the Doctor stomped away, one could have overheard something along the lines of, "…costumed freaks…do it myself! …hedgehog!"

* * *

**Day 14 – 20:35 – Outside the Mystic Ruins – Tails's Workshop**

THOUGH Sonic the Hedgehog was a wanderlust driven young man that called no place "home," he did visit his friends in their respective abodes. He even took time out of his schedule to drop in on Amy at her Station Square apartment, though this was very infrequent. More often than not, if Sonic was not tucked away in a simple cave in the Mystic Ruins, or a tree branch in the Station Square Memorial Park, then he was on a visit to his oldest and best friend's workshop-house facility. Tails kept a nice home for someone so young, his engineer's mind desirous to keep a meticulous and tidy living space. Sometimes his machine shop was far more cluttered and jumbled, but that was sometimes the end result of Tails's need to simply stop a project for food and sleep. No, Tails's home, far from elegant, was at least respectable. Sometimes Sonic would callously forget to wipe his feet at the door and leave mud and dust tracks on a clean floor, but the hedgehog was always – to pardon a bad pun – quick to clean up. Sometimes Tails worried that Sonic might exceed the rubbing motions needed to expunge a little filth – he actually buzzed through a layer of wax, once – but Sonic had gotten the hang of cleaning up after himself; something he rarely had to do.

That night, Sonic and Tails had sat down to a small meal of their own making – neither of them great cooks – cleaned up and began to bed down for the night. Tails sometimes thought of building a bunk bed so that Sonic could crash in his room, but he knew Sonic would protest, mostly on the grounds he hated to make his somewhat bum-lifestyle more beggarly than it already appeared. Sonic always crashed on the couch. Not that he insisted; he simply did it. Even when Tails once offered his bed to Sonic, Sonic wordlessly crawled onto the couch and went to sleep. Tails kept a pillow and cover in the hall closet as a result of that experiment.

Sonic kicked off his sneakers and crawled onto the couch. Tails leaned over the couch and looked down to Sonic who was, admittedly, ready to go to sleep. "Hey, Sonic," the kit said, "do you think Eggman and the Rogues will leave us alone, now?"

"Eggman; leave us alone? Nope. It's not his style," Sonic rolled his head up to look at Tails and smiled. "The Rogues on the other hand, I'd say they've had their fill."

"So you think the attacks will stop for a while?"

"Eh, give Eggman some time; he'll come up with something. We've got a week or two of quiet time, I'd say. The Rogues have probably gone back to wherever they came from. That is, if they were as scared as I think I made them." Sonic winked lazily.

Tails chuckled, "I suppose so. You can be pretty intimidating when you want to be, you know. Why doesn't Eggman ever get frightened off like that?"

…

"Sonic?"

Tails looked down into the sleeping face of his friend. Apparently his wink had tempted the sandman too much. Tails smiled. Quietly, Tails turned out the living room light and went to the stairs that led up to his room in the loft. Halfway up the stairs, Tails glanced over his shoulder, "Good night, Sonic."

* * *

**Day 15 – 00:01 – Keystone City – Downtown Area, Abandoned Back Alley**

STRAY cats scurried away from a dumpster near a condemned apartment complex. More aptly, they scurried away from an old, discarded medicine cabinet mirror propped up against the dumpster. A familiar, green-covered face poked out of the mirror.

With a sigh, Mirror Master turned his head over his shoulder and called back into the mirror, "Alright: coast's clear."

Soon, Mirror Master, Trickster and Captain Cold emerged from the mirror, quite a bit worse for wear. The trio had spent a while in search of the proper mirror to get them back to their hometown. They had had their fill of Eggman and his purported schemes to squelch a "garden pest."

"What did I tell you?" Mirror Master grumbled as the group began to make their way to the abandoned apartment building: one of their pre-selected safe houses. "Mad scientists: they're crazier and stupider than what they act like they are."

"Shut up, Scudder," Trickster moaned.

"Yeah," Captain Cold commented. "Again, you went along with the whole plan, like us."

Mirror Master harrumphed and went silent as they came to the main door of the building. Trickster leaned up against the building, "Stupid hedgehog. I'm going to try and sleep this jaw off," he grumbled as he rubbed his still tender face.

Captain Cold scowled, "You should try a fist of his knuckles on your chin. Bah. The whole thing was a wash. At least there's tomorrow."

"Yeah," Mirror Master and Trickster said in unison.

"Yeah," Captain Cold echoed. Cold smiled a little, then, "Yeah, tomorrow, we'll be rested up and start planning some heists to celebrate our early parole. At least we owe the Doc _that much_."

"About that…"

Captain Cold, Mirror Master, and Trickster all three tensed and snapped out of their tired physical states. Sudden rushes of adrenaline pushed their worn faces into determined scowls and locked their bodies into offensive postures that made them forget all about their plans to sleep. All because of one voice; _that_ voice.

The trio whirled about to see a familiar face. Or, rather, a familiar mask. It was a man, to be sure. A man dressed in a skin-tight, wind and heat resistant red body-suit. It fit the muscular physique that wore it well. It was very simple with very few colors beyond the eye-grabbing red. The only other thing the suit featured was a pair of golden-yellow boots that sported small wings. A similar pair of yellow wings was attached to the suit's hood. The only other noticeable feature was the solid white disc mounted on the costume's chest, superimposed onto the disc was an image of a brilliant bolt of lightning. It was him, no doubt about it, the hero of Central and Keystone Cities, the "Fastest Man Alive," and number one enemy to every super-criminal within the tri-county area.

"Flash," Captain Cold snarled. Minus his cold guns, Cold tapped Mirror Master's side with his elbow. Mirror Master responded with a pass of his laser pistol into Cold's hand. Mirror Master, himself, slipped a couple of his remaining mirrors into his hands to replace the laser pistol. Trickster, for his part, began to pull out a jump-rope lariat from his costume, plus an over-sized pistol with a weighted boxing glove at the end of the barrel.

"Glad to know that you guys remember me. I hear you've been causing a lot of trouble out West," Flash stated casually as he leaned up against a wall in the alleyway. "Yeah, that and the prison escape don't exactly sit well with the Johnny Laws down at the police station. That's why I've been hanging out, later, looking for you guys. I was _almost_ heading home, too."

Cold snarled, "Yeah? If you knew where we were, why didn't you come out looking for us?"

"Thought about it," Flash smiled a little, "but, the FBI and the Martian Manhunter were keeping me abreast of what you guys were up to. Frankly, I had better stuff to do." Flash finished this statement up with a shrug. "Besides, it seemed like this 'Sonic' kid I'd been hearing about was doing just fine without me. Oh! And, Weather Wizard was really acting up all over town, so I had to stay and deal with him. Don't worry; you'll get to visit with him in Iron Heights. I hear they've even repaired your old prison cells."

"Really?" Cold's defiant tone spoke for the Rogues as the three men prepared to attack.

With that, old foes were back to their status quo.

**_Sonic the Hedgehog_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by the SEGA Corporation.**

**_The Flash_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by DC Comics.**


	8. Further?

**???**

"And that's it?"

"Huh?"

"That's it?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's it."

"What a gyp!"

"Well, come on. You knew it was a parody. It has to be something of a joke."

"A joke?! What kind of joke; on whom?"

"Huh. Well, everyone I guess."

"What?"

"Yeah, you know. It's a kind of self-referencing joke, really. I just _had_ to make a joke on the Sonic community for the simple fact that, frankly, it's a pretty silly bunch. Yours truly included, of course."

"What makes that partly believable is that you're smiling."

"Heh, of course; I mean, really, Sonic's fans are just so… silly. A lot of them wouldn't really take a _Sonic_ and _Flash_ crossover seriously. That's why I didn't really expect that many reviews for this story. Honestly, my expectations were such that I couldn't possibly get more than one review per chapter. And that is entirely my perspective on Sonic's fans."

"So you're calling them stupid?"

"No! Don't ever say that."

"Okay, okay! Relax; I'm not trying to get you in trouble."

"Well, you could still yet. People…

"What about people?"

"People get the wrong ideas a lot of times. And, when you go to saying you're playing jokes on them, well, they can take that as if you're trying to play them for a fool. Ironically, the jokester can actually be including himself in the joke. It's just all social commentary, a parody, of _us_; I noticed that a lot of fans of Sonic are just so divisive. I noticed that a _long_ time ago. People who play the games think of the games as the only "true" Sonic. The cartoons, the comics, and everything else, that's just 'stuff and nonsense.' Now, don't get me wrong: some of the fans can be quite nice about it, 'just not for me,' they would say. And I can respect that. Still… It's a foible worth lampooning."

"Quit smiling like that."

"I can't! I mean, to me, it's a hilarious joke. If Sonic fans cannot generally agree on different versions of Sonic, there's no way on earth that they'd be happy to read/see a crossover between the _Flash_ and _Sonic the Hedgehog_. I was actually surprised that the Archie comic books company that makes the _Sonic the Hedgehog_ comic books bothered to make an Image comic books crossover _way_ back in the 90s. You know, _Savage Dragon_ and _The Maxx_. Oh, and the _X-Files_, too, it seemed. Although, I think that was a parody of that show, too."

"Parody, parody! What's with you? Are you a parrot or something?"

"Sammy wants a joke!"

"Stop that!"

"Sorry, you made it too obvious. Ironically, though, Image is a dependant company that works for DC, the owners of Flash. So, they came _close_ to working out a crossover."

"Please. Next, you'll tell me that Archie Andrews from _Archie_ met _The Punisher_."

"Actually: he did."

"What?!"

"Yeah; though, good luck trying to find copies."

"Quit smiling!"

"Can't; it's all just too funny. The only serious thing in the whole affair was that I really just wanted to have fun with pitting The Flash's Rogues Gallery, some of the oldest modern villains, against Sonic the Hedgehog, one of the newest modern heroes. Beyond that, the rest of the story was written with the full intention of proving, if to just myself, how shallow the Sonic the Hedgehog community is, and in a roundabout way, how snobbish mainstream comic book readers are. I mean, you can get away with Superman having Mr. Mxyzptlk and Batman having Bat-Mite, but Sonic the Hedgehog meeting the Flash "is just out of the question." That's why you'll never see DC and Archie do that; despite DC and their use of _Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew!_; because Sonic the Hedgehog is deemed to childish and the mainstream comic books being too mature to mix. The general public wouldn't buy a single issue. Ironically, this is also the same general public that loves the various anime that visit similar themes, _Who Framed Roger Rabbit?_ complete with its "questionable" content and any given Looney Tunes animated short."

"You're off you're nut, aren't you?"

"Am I? I wouldn't know. …And I don't trust psychiatrists."

"Good Grief… So, what, then? This was all for nothing?"

"No. Not if the readers enjoyed it and I hope they did."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

_**The End**_

**_Sonic the Hedgehog_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by the SEGA Corporation.**

**_The Flash_ and all related characters and trademarks are copyrighted by DC Comics.**


End file.
